Gray Eyes, Gray Heart
by magicalme32
Summary: Malfoy's much more different than you think. In 7th year, he must deal with Voldemort at the peak of his power, getting top score in NEWT’s, beating Potter in Quidditch, and most importantly… being a Malfoy. How will he cope?
1. Prologue: Azkaban

_Prologue: Azkaban_

It was the end of fifth year; the Dark Lord had risen. It was planned that Lucius Malfoy give the Dark Mark to me, his only son Draco Malfoy, that summer. But, for once, the Malfoy's plans went askew.

Famous Harry Potter and his fan club had escaped the Dark Lord and his group of faithful Death Eaters, again. Who else, but Dumbledore and his loyal few would come to the rescue, to grow such a tangle among those loyal to the Dark Lord. Somehow; the usually slippery Lucius Malfoy failed to escape. And now, he was in Azkaban.

Azkaban. No Malfoy had ever stepped foot in Azkaban.

Yet, here I was, walking into the dreaded fortress. My mother, Narcissa Black, was walking exactly two steps behind me-- as we were trained. It seemed our visit was simply that, but hidden in my robes were a generous amount to get my father out.

To no avail. Dementors were truly stubborn; all they seemed to care about was their own bloody happiness. Not that I, Draco Malfoy, cared, of course.

But Narcissa did. Next, we went to the Ministry of Magic, a vaguely more familiar place. Chin high, shoulders back, I strode into the crowded room of wizards. Most parted before me, and I enjoyed the sense of power. Half of them disgraced the name of a wizard, and mostly of all, Weasley.

And just who were we to meet? None other that Senior Weasley himself.

'Malfoy, funny meeting you here. I don't think that your father works here anymore. If you'd like to find him, the most appropriate place would be Azkaban.'

'As much as my mother and I would like to honor you with our presence, Weasley,' I recited without blinking an eye, 'We really find ourselves quite busy at the moment. Schedule with our house elf,' I finished, brushing off my perfectly straight silk gray robes [as though they dirtied with his presence] without really touching them, just as all Malfoy's do.

Amusingly, Weasley's face turned red as quickly as his son's. 'You'll be just like him,' Weasley whispered, his finger quivering in front of my face. He didn't need to tell me that 'him' meant my father. 'Even Dumbledore can't turn you right.'

My eyebrows rose and I smirked slightly as I moved straight ahead. My mother walked behind me, silent. What the Weasel didn't know was that he hit more of a nerve than even his puny mind contemplated.

I am NOT my father.

For some reason, all wizards assume that I am to be the exact replica of my father. A Malfoy follows a Malfoy. The name should never die out or all is lost. That doesn't mean loss by death, but loss of pride. And guess what wizards, I felt like shouting,—but ofcourse, I wouldn't shout, I am a Malfoy-- he was caught, I wasn't and here I am holding the name together. I am his better not vice versa as he always seems to display.

We arrived at the Detectors of Dark Wizards office, and entered without knocking. Why should we?

I strode to the front desk, 'We are here on account of the arrest of Lucius Malfoy,' I said as the accountant looked up. His glasses were slightly leaning down his nose and he stopped scribbling on his parchment which fell all the way off the desk.

'Malfoy,' he mumbled, 'What about him?'

'We feel that the court did not give him a proper hearing, and we would like that to be arranged to plead his innocence.' The words rolled off my tongue magnificently like an extravagant poem.

'Albus Dumbledore,' the man spoke the words as though they protected him like a shield, 'has already proven the fact that he and many others are Death Eaters, when they were caught in the ministry.'

Narcissa spoke up, tossing her blonde hair, 'He was only in the Ministry of Magic doing his job as all should; if he was at the scene, why was it assumed that he was on the Dark Lord's side?' she spoke smoothly, her words polite but her voice carried a sneer.

'He has been proven a Death Eater, and will stay in Azkaban, where all Death Eaters belong,' the man said clearly as if the conversation was finished.

As if, but I didn't want to stay with the annoying prat for another second, or I just might have hexed him.

No one could cage a Malfoy for long, after all, we don't like touching dirt, and the cells of Azkaban have dirt floors.

And wasn't I right. A Malfoy is always right.

Later that summer all the Death Eaters were gone from Azkaban, just like that. Once morning, poof, nothing was left. Not even the Dementors.

Needless to say, those annoying Gryffindork aurors paid a visit to the Malfoy Mansion to check if my father was there. As if...

The solemn bell rang, and I waited a good two minutes before answering the door. I had told the house elf not to answer.

About ten wizards were standing before the door. Smirking, I asked, 'Yes?'

A larger black wizard took out a piece of parchment and said, 'We have the authority to search the Malfoy Mansion for Senior Malfoy, who recently escaped Azkaban.'

'So?' I said, always better to play dumb.

'Can you step aside?' the man said in a rather blunt tone.

'No other than pure bloods are allowed to enter this Mansion,' I said with a smirk, 'Even our house elf is pure blood. So those of you who are pure blood have the honor to step forward.'

Four of the men stepped forward, not including the black man. He seemed rather grumpy that he wasn't allowed in, but he knew better than to say anything to a Malfoy.

Wands out, the men entered my house. I had to hold myself from laughing at the look on their faces. Pure caution and terror, somehow like the real Professor Moody at the end of fourth year.

They went through the dining room, I cautioned them not to step on the rug from Iraq. 'It's worth more than ten years of your job,' I told them, as they looked wide eyed at it. They walked carefully past the oak dining table and green and gold furniture. Into the living room, they stared at the Snake carvings and eloquently designed furniture from Stalingrad. 'This isn't a museum,' I spat at them, as they entered our third living room.

If truth be told, I loved to have people gape over my things... but, Malfoy's weren't one to brag... not out loud, at least.

'We're looking,' one said, as the others started to climb the spiraling staircase--studded with blood red rubies and emeralds, of course--to the second floor. After the search of the other living rooms, another dining room, two bathrooms, and the kitchen-- which I refused to enter, since the House Elf was in that room-- we got ready to climb to the third floor. I called it the living floor, since all our bedrooms were there.

After the slow brutes got off the stairs, which they had dirtied with the dry mud of their shoes, they met my mother, Narcissa, standing at the head of the stairs.

'Hello, gentlemen,' she said smoothly, looking at them with slightly narrowed eyes and a satisfied smirk.

'Mrs. Malfoy,' one man with light brown hair seemed to have claimed himself to be the leader, 'We have the authority to search for Senior Malfoy, who has recently escaped...'

'Azkaban,' she said, holding the 'z' a little longer, to give off an intimidating snake sensation.

'Yes,' the man said, a bit of fright in his voice. I inwardly laughed, who knew holding a letter could intimidate an auror? Bravo, Narcissa.

'Well,' said Narcissa, 'What are you waiting for?' she shook her blonde hair slightly. 'I promise you'll still come out alive,' she laughed lightly and looked my way. I knew she wanted me to laugh as well, to give off a double effect, as though we knew something, so I laughed.

The four men looked at each other and started to search. After two living rooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen—which I use, and am going to have to get cleaned—the men went down a twisted hallway to my wing, the east wing.

Ok, so I liked the sun rise. That doesn't make me weak, does it? I just like to see a beginning, a new beginning.

They passed the many portraits of my grandfathers, whom silently watched them, each had his blonde hair tied neatly and gray eyes calculating. Finally, they reached my room. They carefully touched my doorknob—have to get that cleaned, too—and entered my personal room. As if my father would actually hide in my room. What a ludicrous matter.

I heard a few of them gasp. What? I thought, it's just a 16 meter by 12 meter room. But, then again, Salazar Slytherin used to have some of the things I have. Like the king's sized bed, or maybe it was the huge wardrobe which took up half the wall of a side of my room. Or could it be the amazing—if I do say so myself—display of live snakes right underneath their feet? But, what I thought was the greatest in my room was my window. The glass had silver designs of dragons and snakes in it. The window frame was made of two silver snakes with emerald eyes. Then there was my balcony, which overlooked our garden and lake. I could see our shy gardener hiding behind the bushes. What a freak, I thought.

Finally, the aurors found themselves back at the door again. Of course they had found nothing. With one last glance, all ten walked away, then apparated into thin air.

What the sad aurors didn't know, was that my father wasn't going to visit my mother and me. We were going to visit him.

A simple note drifted down from the air onto my balcony, a few numbers and a word.1:30 Knockturn

I walked straight to my parent's room. I showed Narcissa the note and she nodded. We were going to meet my father tonight.

Wearing the dirtiest cloaks we could find, Narcissa and I left entered the fire place. Check rubies glittering around us, I let go of the light floo powder and quietly said, 'Diagon Alley.'

Always good to take a detour, in case anyone was following us or watching the house. We didn't want to get caught, not tonight.

Inside the fireplace of the inn, I made sure the hood of my cloak properly covered my face and strode forward. I could hear the even footsteps of Narcissa behind me, as I turned the corner towards the back of the inn where they stored the garbage.

Holding my breath as I walked nearer—you have no idea what is in those rubbish bins—to block the dreadful smell, I quickly stripped of my cloak. Good, I thought, now I look like I'm going to a formal party. I was wearing a black dress robe and Narcissa was dressed most simply as a waitress with a very low hat. No one would ask what she'd be doing in the middle of the night. I nodded to her and we split up and went our different ways.

Now, I thought, just to find another something to wear. Walking past a few gibbering goblins, I entered a store for cloaks. Without looking at the owner of the store, I grabbed a cloak that looked seemingly my size... and my class, of course. In the darkest corner of the store, I slipped it on then walked right back out, dropping five galleons on the counter.

Knockturn Alley, I thought as I stood with my back to a wall, looking onto the dark alleyway. A minute later, I saw a figure ambling towards me, also wearing a cloak. Narcissa, about time, I thought and strolled in front of her into the alley. Slowly, I looked at everyone, careful with every step. Most people were wearing cloaks, most people here supported the Dark Lord, even if they were too cowardly to act or not.

Entering a crowded bar, the most crowded one I could find, my gaze rested upon a lean figure. I stood before him, the candlelight reflected steel gray eyes.

He was my father.

A dark wand shot out, held by a white hand. It rested underneath my chin, pushed it up. I felt the candlelight enlightening my eyes.

I was his son.

He looked at Narcissa, she nodded. Quickly, he pulled us close. Was he going to take me to the Dark Lord? Was I ready? Would I get caught?

'Listen,' his voice was hoarse, 'Draco, you can't get the mark yet, the old fool,' I knew he meant Dumbledore, 'will notice. I have given the Dark Lord my reasons.' Lucius looked at my mother, 'I can't come home,' Narcissa nodded, 'I must help the Dark Lord, I know you will understand.' Lucius backed away and without looking both ways strolled to the door.

But, at the door, he stopped. Slowly, he turned around and looked at me. No, not me, Narcissa. I saw her look up as well; I knew if I could see her face, I would see sadness in her eyes. Lucius turned back again, looking at the area outside the bar. Just when I thought he would leave, I saw his hand grip the side of the door. Lucius turned around and walked back towards us; he brought Narcissa close, hesitated, then kissed her cheek.

Finally, he spun on his heal and left.


	2. The Train Ride

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Do you think that if I were J.K. Rowling, I would actually be doing this? Anyways, read and enjoy.

_Ch. 1: The Train Ride_

One year later, I strode across my balcony in the light of dawn. I looked up into the sky again. The moon was a delicate crescent, slowly fading. No sign of an owl, nothing but the few clouds hovering in the pastel sky.

I stopped and held the silver railing delicately with my fingers. I bent my head and willed my breathing to be even. Willed the creases on my forehead to smoothen out. Willed myself to stop looking up. Willed myself to not grip the railing before me like a madman.

I must be patient.

Finally, I heard the flapping of wings. Eyes wide, I looked up. A dull barn owl was flapping this way, rather sloppily in my opinion. It carried a letter, the Hogwarts letter. The large barn owl landed on the railing. I grabbed the letter and pushed the fat, squawking creature off my railing. Laying the letter gently on my bed, I sat down and looked at it, then tore it open.

Beginning of 7th year, yes, I know which year I'm going to, thank you very much, I thought. New spell books needed, Standard Book of Spells Year 7..., I already bought it. Yes! The badge, I thought as something heavy fell into my hand. I turned it around.

My jaw fell open; I blinked. I blinked again. My hand felt the letters on the badge, the lack of letters. My breathing got heavy, my hands balled into fists, then went up to cover my face.

The shame.

I was a Prefect.

I was entering 7th year, and I was a Prefect.

The shame.

Potter!

He must have got it... Dumbledore's pet.

Straightening, I threw the badge across the room, where it hit my trunk and spell books. I didn't make Head Boy. I don't believe it. I didn't make Head Boy.

The old fool has certainly gone ballistic, I thought angrily. I have the best, well... second best grades after the Mudblood in the year. Shouldn't I get the badge then?

I stood up and walked around my room, quite a long walk, actually.

Well, I thought, as I strode across my room, looking down at the snake's under the glass floor, I can't change the past, so I'll just have to live with it. At least, I can get revenge in potions, I thought as I walked over to my Eagle owl, Sajay.

For a moment, I ran my hands over her sleek feathers, over her sharp beak. Then, I transformed.

As I looked in the mirror, I saw two Eagle owl's, identical to the last feather. Snapping my beak, I dropped my head to a side then spread my wings and flew. Flew out of my window, over the green pine trees into the wilderness.

I flew very high then dived low, near the ground. My feathers skimmed near the dew- filled grass. I saw a mouse running out of a bush somewhere and attempted a chase.

Shrieking the sound of a predator who just found his prey, I flapped my wings quickly and followed. I saw the little feet of the gray creature scurrying as fast as its miniature feet could carry it... not fast enough. With a shout of victory I grabbed it with my sharp claws, and flew for the skies. I circled greedily, then looked down at my gardener.

If owls could smirk, then I was definitely doing so. Flying high over head, I dropped the dead mouse onto the gardener.

3... 2... 1...

A shriek of disgust rang out from behind me. I nearly smiled as I made my way back to my balcony. Sajay looked at me, as though she knew what I had done, and disapproved that I hadn't given the mouse to her.

Stupid bird, I thought, what I do is always right.

But, even as I thought that, I could tell Sajay was giving me that pitying look that she always saved me.

And, it was disturbing.

But, I couldn't think about that now. I had packing to do, next week was September first, and I would be off to Hogwarts.

Walking towards the Head Compartment on the train, I couldn't believe I was wearing the Prefect Badge on my chest.

I slid the door aside and walked in most gracefully, a king on his walk to his thrown, I thought, aside the fact that I have Parkinson on my arm.

I saw Granger first of all. She stood there, looking so goofy bouncing on the balls of her feet. Of course, she wore the Head Girl badge. I remembered Parkinson's letter last week about how torn she was that she hadn't gotten the rightful position.

'Granger,' I said, before she could open her mouth. 'You keep that side of the compartment, while Pansy,' yes, I had to say that name in public, 'and I will be here,' I pointed to the seats near the window as I smirked, 'You see, these robes are new.' The mudblood's smile faltered as Parkinson burst into a reckless shriek of laughter.

Just then, the compartment door opened again. Potter and Weasley came in laughing and grinning- like complete idiots- in my opinion.

They looked at me, and the laughter slid off their faces- Yes, sometimes I have that affect on people.

'Malfoy,' Weasley said.

I gave him a look that simply said: You're here and you haven't the honor to hear my voice.

I turned my face and went to sit with Parkinson.

It was good I turned my face, for I could barely believe what I saw.

Potter had the Prefect Badge; Weasley was Head Boy.

Oh Merlin!

Famous Potter wasn't so perfect after all!

Well, I thought as an evil smile dawned upon my face, I can make his miserable little life even more miserable.

The other prefects had entered- they were too unimportant for me to take notice of them.

It seemed Weasley had stood up, along with Granger, ofcourse.

They were explaining to the dimwits-I was unfortunate enough to sit beside- what being a Prefect meant.

My mind wandered, I mean, seriously, how long can you pay attention to what Weasley says? As boredom enclosed me, I started to think of the many ways I could make Longbottom's life miserable.

Once Weasley started announcing the days we had to patrol, I tuned back in.

It seemed that the duo had arranged for everyone to patrol the halls at times such as we would get to meet and know all the other Prefects.

Puh, get to know!

I nearly smiled. But, Parkinson caught it, any Slytherin would. She raised a delicate eyebrow.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear, 'Just thinking, how long 'till the Dark Lord get's the Mudblood.'

It seemed my simple comment could make Parkinson shriek in fits of laughter.

'You're so funny, Dracky- I thought I had forbidden her to use that nickname-,' she said, still giggling as she looked over at Granger.

The compartment stopped and turned to look at us. Thankyou, I thought, that's the attention I deserve. Seriously, I have every right to interrupt.

I smirked and looked over at Granger as well.

She looked cautiously over at us, as Parkinson whispered in my ear, 'Soon, I hope.'

She burst into more laughter as my smirk widened. Weasley's ears were turning red, uh oh. Warning.

Maybe, I should stop now; Weasley could possibly take points from Slytherin.

I quieted down and looked at the rest of the compartment. The Mudblood's eyebrow's were low over her eyes; Potter's eyes were narrowed between his glasses- how long has he had those?-. The Ravenclaws had their arms crossed, and the Hufflepuffs were shaking their heads slightly. Ms. Weasel seemed to be looking just about the same as Weasel.

Well, they were all so quiet that I couldn't resist to:

Sigh, wave my hand majestically, and say, 'Continue, continue,' with a smirk and slightly raised eyebrows.

Soon enough, we were excused and even sooner we were at Hogwarts.

This is the author: Please read and review. Tell me about everything that went through your head while reading this post.


	3. The Sorting

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Do you think that if I were J.K. Rowling, I would actually be doing this? Anyways, read and enjoy.

_Ch. 2: The Sorting_

I never really liked those dusty carriages.

Yes, here I was, riding the horse drawn carriages on my way to the looming castle of Hogwarts. I noticed the black, sleek horses prancing along the path and snorting they're white ghost breath in the chilly air. They were as light as death, herself.

Yes, I could see them. Of course, I could see them.

Who could forget what had happened last year.

6th year, such a long time ago. A time of confusion, chaos... to most people, but not to me of course. The Slytherin table knew exactly what was happening. History was repeating it's never ending rhyme.

Every attack, every kidnapping, every torturous and **brilliantly** laid out scheme that took place in the Wizarding world that year would never be forgotten.

Not anytime soon, at least.

Oh, where to start. Everyone came to school expecting something to happen... and they weren't disappointed.

The Dark Lord and his faithful Death Eaters had attacked Hogsmeade. It wasn't a wonder why all the residents kept their windows and doors boarded up.

Why, I still remember that day.

_'Where do you think we should sit, Dracky?' said the unmistakable voice of Parkinson, as we walked into the Three Broomsticks._

_'Near the back, close to the bathrooms,' answered Theodore Nott, precisely. Parkinson and Blaise Zambini, however didn't move. Vincent and Gregory were out somewhere- not like I cared._

_'By the bathrooms,' I said, as we walked together to a secluded table. I could hear Nott grumbling behind._

_Yes, as much as Nott didn't like it, Parkinson and Zambini answered to me._

_I saw Zambini's eyes shift slightly towards the doors. Idiot, I thought, they wouldn't come in through there._

_The waitress, Rosmerta- yes, that's her name-, came up to our table. _

_'Anything to drink, dears?' she asked, slipping out her parchment and quill. _

_'No,' I replied shortly. Looking at us strangely, she walked back to the bar._

_But, before she even reached there, the doors of the bathroom flew open. Parkinson gasped as a spell hit the glass behind her, but I made sure to hold my head, though for a brief moment I did shut my eyes. That was my cue. I drew out a dung/smoke bomb from my pocket and smashed it hard on the ground. Simple, yet untraceable. _

_The billowing cloaks made their way over to the bar. Rosmerta, still frozen, didn't move in time. With a harsh laugh, one of the five figures withdrew their wand. And with the whip of a word, Rosmerta's heavily made up eyes fluttered closed as her knees crumpled under her dead weight._

_Her._

_Dead._

_Weight._

_And the black billowing cloaks raced past me and out of the smoking shop. _

The cart jumped slightly from a bump on the path, knocking me out of my thoughts.

The cart stopped and I got out, accompanied by Parkinson, Vincent, and Gregory. Parkinson clung to my arm, while the heavy figures of Vincent and Gregory tailed behind. Walking through the doors large doors of Hogwarts, I decided to stop thinking of the past.

After all, I had a **bright** future.

Sitting down at the top of my House Table, I felt this odd feeling. Maybe it was the feeling that Parkinson was still pulling at my arm. I shrugged her off, and she huffed. No, it was still there. It was as if... I was fulfilled. Not that I had been missing anything before, of course. How could I... sitting in Hogwarts at the Head of my table, after such a long summer, looking at the teachers table and the other three tables, surrounded by my classmates... feel fulfilled.

That simply couldn't be.

Professor McGonagall was putting that old, rusty sorting hat- that was still around?- on it's little stool and before I knew it, the hat burst into song.

_"Many a' decade ago, _

_Hogwarts was made, you know_

_By the greatest wizards in the land."_

This was my time to tune off. Yes, after the first lame rhyme I could barely take another one.

I allowed my eyes to drift across the Great Hall. A pile of pathetic first years watching the hat in awe... I assure you, I was never like that. Hmm... there's of course Hufflepuff- pathetic-, Ravenclaw-who said they were smart, again?-, and lastly...Gryffindor.

Gryffindor... Gryffindor... Gryffindor.

Potter. His fellow... friends (I suppose that's what they are) were looking quite interested in what the sorting hat had to say.

Stupid... oh, my eyebrows raised the slightest bit. Potter wasn't. Tsk... tsk... you should be paying attention Potter, perfect, famous Potter.

He seemed to be looking around and had just looked up at the house table. Finding Potter's face rather boring, I looked up at the teacher's table as well.

Well, there's always Dumbledore. The bloke never dies, does he? Of course, McGonagall on his right and Severus on his left. Now, where is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? There's always a new one.

And, conveniently enough, there she is.

Well, I suppose you could call her pretty... in a... lighter way. Let's see, she has blue eyes, full lips, brown wavy hair, and... she almost resembled- hard to believe as it is- Dumbledore.

With a wave of applause, the sorting was over and Dumbledore stood up to give his speech.

'Welcome new students, and welcome back old students...,' he said with a wave of his hands. 'Now, without further ado, eat!'

A magnificent roast lamb and kidney pie arose in front of me. Picking up my fork and knife I cut a tender piece of the meat and put it on my plate. When I was done serving, the rest of the people sitting by me dove at the food. So barbaric, I thought as I chewed the meat slowly. After getting through the meal including desert, I looked up at the teacher's table. I realized I had just ate my last first meal at Hogwarts.

Finally, I thought with a huff, I'll be rid of this school. Free to do as I wish. Without being followed by an angry Filch, or talked sternly to by Professor McGonagall, or taught by that crazy divination teacher.

I'd be rid of this whole area, these students, teachers, elves. I could do as I wish... with no competition...

'Now, I would like to introduce this new teacher, you have all most likely realized was here.'

Dumbledore was talking again- will the fool ever shut up?

'Her name is Chyssandra... Chyssandra Dumbledore.' A gasp spread over the Great Hall and I heard a familiar voice cry out.

'I told you! She has the same eyes,' said Weasley.

'Hello everyone,' said Chyssandra, standing up, 'I hope to be a good teacher to all of you. I've heard about your previous curriculums and really hope I can work up to it. Especially with the past events...' I stopped listening to what she was saying and just took a look at her.

She was pregnant.

Her voice was soft and light, and she even talked like Dumbledore somewhat, and she was pregnant.

It seemed maybe four months. With a dull curiosity, I wondered who she was married to.

Then suddenly there were many gasps heard around the hall again. I tuned in to listen to what the young woman was saying, 'Yes, I will be teaching Potions...'

Dumbledore continued for her. 'Chyssandra will be teaching the art of Potions. Of course, many of you will be wondering about your Professor Snape. Well, he has gladly taken up the Defense Against the Dark Arts.'

And by the look on Snape's face, he seemed anything but glad. The old fool forcing you to do things, Severus, I thought slyly. Severus was looking angrily at Dumbledore and without trust at Chyssandra, as though she couldn't take care of his subject.

'Now, with that settled, how about we all go to our dorms. Head Boy, Girl, Prefects lead the way.'

And lead the way, I did. Way away.

This is the author: Please read and review. Tell me about everything that went through your head while reading this post.


	4. Quidditch Talk

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Do you think that if I were J.K. Rowling, I would actually be doing this? Anyways, read and enjoy.

Ch. 3 Quidditch Talk

Walking back through the dark hallways towards my house dorms, I almost felt jealous of the first years walking behind me. Well... almost.

I mean, how jealous can you get of a few pathetic first years?

We didn't pass any stair cases, the Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons.

'Dragon blood,' I announced to the portrait of one of Hogwarts old headmasters- a Slytherin of course.

'Enter,' he said solemnly and the huge portrait swung open, grandly.

I walked straightly through the small tunnel which led to the common rooms. There was a fire lit, though I felt no heat as I looked around the shades of green. It wasn't a very welcoming sight, to look around at the various couches and chairs, all split into there own groups. Many portraits of famous dark wizards were hung up around the room, and a lush carpet was at my feet.

'Pansy will lead the girls to their dorms,' I looked her way and she nodded,' and boys follow me, I will show you your rooms.' I walked up the stone staircase and down a long hallway with doors and more hallways branching out of it.

'First years,' I waved my hand to the left and kept on walking, 'second,' I waved my hand to the right, 'third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. Any questions?' I looked back and a second year held up his hand. 'Good, know if anyone does have a question, ask Pansy,' I turned to my door and murmured, 'she knows these dorms better than I do.'

Entering my room, I started to undress. Slipping my night shirt over my head, I looked around to those sleeping with me. Vincent and Gregory were mimicking my actions accordingly. I looked over to Nott and Zambini, they seemed to be deep in conversation. Only having to listen for a few seconds, I understood what they were talking about.

'You don't know why I didn't make Head Boy?' I challenged them. Quickly, Zambini looked my way, then looked back at Nott, who looked at me coolly.

'We weren't talking about you not getting Head Boy,' Zambini said.

'Why am I always surrounded by idiots?' I said through clenched teeth. Zambini had simply given it away.

'Well,' said Nott, 'You surely can't blame us for wondering,' he said, with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

'Why wonder,' I said, 'I knew it straight away; it was so obvious.'

'What was,' said Zambini, looking at me, hooked with curiosity.

'Potter didn't make it since the old fool is being easy on him, since he wants him to beat the Dark Lord,' I said easily, 'so his only choice was Weasley. Dumbledore was sure to pick a Gryffindor like himself.'

'Oh,' said Zambini, 'I thought you should have made it, though.'

'Ya,' Gregory piped up, 'me too.'

Vincent cut in, 'I agree; after all, I knew there was some reason behind it.'

Sitting down on his bed, Nott didn't say a word. He just laid down and closed his curtains.

I sat down as well, and pulled my warm cover around me. It was always cold in the dungeons, summer or winter never affected the temperature.

The next morning, I got my schedule just as I sat down at my table. Yes, arithmacy, potions, charms, transfiguration, muggle studies, divinations... the average... needed to become a school governor.

Yes, that's what I want to be.

It's a safe job. You're seen as a fine man to the public and parents of the students. No one would ever expect anything... illegal... of you.

Safety... always good.

Then there's always Potter of course. An auror. Ha! He wants to be an auror! That's just like him. Playing the hero... then again, with all hope he won't even be alive out of school.

The week passed by quickly; the homework load was definitely more than last year. It seemed that the teacher's actually cared about the NEWT's. But, those professors don't care enough, obviously.

So, here I am, again, in the large library.

And, Granger just has to sit at that table like every year.

I looked over to the table near the middle of the library where Granger was positively surrounded with books and had various quills and ink generously displayed around her.

Shaking my head, I walked by the shelves, trailing my finger down a few books. I'll need this, and this... stupid charms homework... and this for McGonagall... I know all this anyway... doesn't she know I'm an Animagus... oh, and this.

With a pile of books floating behind me, I made my way over to a table in a darker corner. Ok, I thought reasonably, I'll finish that homework, since it'll take longer, and then...

But, my thinking was interrupted by a shadow trailing over my books. Looking up slowly, with a well placed smirk, I asked, 'Missing any books, Granger?'

'No,' she said smoothly, 'I would just like to remind you that you have your prefect rounds tonight with Pansy.'

'As if I'd forget this most pleasant arrangement for the evening,' I said sarcastically, 'What time?'

Granger looked at me with a knowing smile, 'Nine 'till twelve... like every time. Remember?'

'Of course, I do,' I replied hastily. Granger looked at me, as if waiting for something... what? Did she think I would thank her or something?... then walked away and sat down to work, again.

Ugh, I thought. I hate these prefect rounds I have to go on. And with Parkinson! I ran my hands through my hair, then realizing what I had done, quickly stopped. I had messed up my sleek hair! I hate this awful habit. Who actually runs their hands through their hair when thinking?

I put my hand down, picked up my quill, and got to work.

'Shut up, Parkinson.'

'But, Dracky Pooh,' she squealed...

Glaring at her, I said, 'I forbade you to call me that.'

'But, no one's around,' she said in this unusual high pitch voice, that I had recognized as a girl's voice.

Looking around at my watch, I realized that I had only twenty minutes to go before Prefect Rounds were over. Then, I could lay down in my bed and sleep peacefully, without Parkinson.

'I missed you a lot over the summer Draco,' she said quietly, looking my way. 'I kept on thinking about you.'

'Good,' I said shortly, walking down another hallway.

Following me, she caught up and said, 'I talked about you a lot, too.'

'Good,' I repeated- what was the girl going on about?

'My parents would like to meet you,' she said, looking my way, again.

'Good,' I said, another dinner party.

'We'd like to talk about our marriage plans.'

'G- What!' I looked at Parkinson, like she had sprouted horns.

'marriage-'

'I heard what you said,' I snapped, 'Where did you come up with marriage plans? What else have you been making up!'

'Well, we've been going out for years.'

'Going out?'

'And we care for each other...'

'CARE?'

'and want to spend the rest of our lives with each other.'

'You told them that!' This girl was definitely the devil in a Barbie suit. 'There is nothing- absolutely nothing between us. Do you understand!'

'But... but,' her eyes seemed to be filling with tears- fake ofcourse.

'Enough,' I said. My hand was going up to my hair, but I pulled it down again. 'It's over, this is over. Everything- these rounds are over, too. Let's go to our dorms.'

Why am I even playing this useless sport, again?

I'm walking back through the hallways to the Slytherin dorms with my team- and Parkinson- after a long training practice on the field. We were practicing our team tactics. Of course, they were brilliant; I as captain had come up with them.

So, why was I playing Quidditch again? Oh, yes. Because, Potter does it, and I have to beat him at it.

'I don't see why you even bother with that pathetic sport. It's not like you're the best in it.'

I turn around to coolly face Nott- why did I even put him as a beater. 'I'm the best in whatever I do, Thomas. Make sure you remember that.'

'Sure, I'll remember,' he grumbled. 'But, I definitely won't forget the number of times Potter beat you to the Snitch.'

Oooh, he's in trouble now. 'If you value your life,' I said with a quick flick of my wand- now thoroughly pissed at his rivalry,' You'll take that back.'

'I can't forget what's pasted in my mind.'

The team around us went ominously quiet. They looked at each other with quick, short glances- unsure of what was going to happen next.

'Not if you can't remember it,' I slid my wand to his neck and his face, though it paled slightly, stayed infuriatingly calm. Suddenly, I had another idea, 'How brave of you to say that, Thomas. Almost, too brave... and foolish. Maybe, you should have stuck with the rest of the fools in Gryffindor.'

He gasped; I had treated him with the worst insult imaginable, a similarity with a Gryffindor.

'Next thing we know,' I said to the crowd whom had all slunk behind me, as if afraid to catch the Gryffindor disease, 'Nott'll be living in a high tower, all cozy,' I smirked at his withering face, 'and have Potter as his best friend and be Dumbledore's pet. He might resort you then,' I said straight to him, 'into Gryffindor. Who knows? Maybe when you've started wearing maroon like the Weasel, you might even get friendly with the Mudblood.'

I looked back at Nott's face... and strangely enough he looked very sad, like he might even cry. His dark brown eyes met mine,

Asking me to stop

Begging me to forgive him

Asking me to let him

'Run,'

I whispered,

and he turned tail and ran.

'Run!' I shouted after his lonely figure, tripping and racing like a mouse to its hole down the dark hallway.

'Run, you Slytherin!

Run.'

I turned my back to his sobs. And walked my own way. Satisfied. Nott wouldn't annoy me anymore.

I had forgiven him.

**Author's Note**: This chapter has been editedSorry, this took so long. I was busy working on later parts in this story. Please read and review. Tell me about everything that went through your head while reading this post. Oh, and if you don't understand the last part, tell me so I can clear it up.


	5. Gray

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Do you think that if I were J.K. Rowling, I would actually be doing this?... Never mind, who knows, maybe she would. Anyways, read and enjoy.

Ch. 4 Gray

Snape's class, always an interesting time of day.

Here I was, sitting at my table with the Slytherins in Snape's new classroom. His new Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom... which wasn't any brighter than his Potions class, though it wasn't in the dungeons. And Professor Snape was making it quite clear that it wasn't his choice.

'The headmaster,' said Snape bitterly, 'decided that it wasn't necessary to have this classroom in the dungeons. After countless discussions, ' Potter and his fans smiled, 'we agreed to have this classroom on the first floor.' And he finished his little speech with a deep frown and a huff.

The room was a long oval shape. The board and teacher's desk were on one length of the oval and the chairs and tables and such were on the opposite side. Between both sides is a long wooden polished floor, which seems as if it will be used for dueling.

Snape was discussing a few things that we would have to accomplish in our 7th year DADA class. And, rather simply put, I wasn't listening.

The class started to rummage through their bags, and I took out my book. Looking over to Zambini, sitting behind me, I asked, 'What should we be doing?'

Turning to the first pages of his book, he glanced at me and said, 'Read and understand pages five through twenty,' he stopped, then added, 'if you need to.'

I opened the dark cover of the book, _Defense against Deadly Attacks,_ and skipped to page five.

_'The most powerful wizards in the world can not only defend themselves against deadly attacks, but also use the attacks as well.'_

I stopped reading abruptly; Snape was going to teach us deadly attacks?

Bring it on.

Flipping through the pages slowly, I got an idea about what today's lesson would be about. My leg moved impatiently, and I couldn't keep my eyes on the book.

I wanted to see what Snape was going to teach.

After a few long minutes, Snape said abruptly, 'All of you should be done by now.' He stood up and walked briefly along the wooden boards. 'As you should have read, this 7th year class will be learning how to not only defend but attack as well. This is completely necessary for most of you.' Snape looked pointedly at Potter. 'Some more than others, so I would assume that you would,' he walked past some giggling Gryffindor's desk, 'PAY attention!' and Snape slapped the desk.

The girl jumped, looked up, then smiled innocently.

'Ms. Patil, the parchment. Now.' Quickly, the girl gave it to him as he immediately crumpled it. Draco recognized the paper as a Divination memory chart they were making.

'Now,' Snape continued, 'without further ado,' he looked threateningly to the Gryffindor side of the class (do you see why he's my favorite teacher?), 'we will begin the lesson with...'

The whole class waited... why in the world do they have their breath held?

What is this, some show?

'Haleo extractus.'

Oh, ... interesting.

'Does anyone know anything about this curse?'

Granger's hand shot up... she's still in my DADA class?

Well, Potter is, and you all know the saying. Birds of a feather, flock together.

-Craziness, that is-

'Anyone?' asked Snape lazily.

Granger's hand started twitching in the air.

He looked over at me, 'Mr. Malfoy, do you know what the Haleo extractus curse does?'

Time to put on some charm- 'Why ofcourse, Professor,' I said sleekly.

'The Haleo Extractus curse is a curse similar to stunning, however more energy is involved. This curse completely knocks the air out of your opponent, making him incapable of staying on his feet.' I finished with an expectant look at Snape.

'Excellent explanation, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin for being the only one capable of answering this simple question.'

I heard the Gryffindors mutter angrily to themselves, as Zambini patted my back. Granger huffed, and Potter looked annoyingly my way. I smirked at him as I heard the unmistakeable voice of Weasley say, 'Of course a Slytherin knew. Who else would know such dark curses?'

Snape walked briskly to his table- the man doesn't miss a thing, does he?- 'What was that Mr. Weasley?'

'Why, nothing, Professor Snape,' Weasley answered quickly.

'Nothing? Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if you helped me demonstrate this curse? Good, now come on, onto the boards.'

Weasley's face paled as he stood up and followed Snape. The Slytherins and I put up a laugh, this was going to be fun. Granger immediately spoke up, 'Professor. Professor Snape, I don't think that it would be very safe to demonstrate these curses during class.'

'You don't?' he asked, almost looking astonished- the mask fell immediately, 'Then I suppose you would rather us do absolutely nothing but read out of books and answer the questions, that I would write on the board. Is that your idea of a _safe_ class, Ms. Granger?'

'Well, no, but...'

'But, you would rather practice these curses with other students outside this class without the appropriate company of a teacher.' Oh, he's really got her now. 'Is _that_ your idea of a _safe_ class, Ms. Granger?' – Now, this is a teacher.

Granger's eyes had drifted to the ground and she didn't say a thing.

'No,' Snape asked, 'nothing to say. Then I would recommend that you don't question the way I teach, Ms. Granger.'

Snape turned his back to her and looked at the shocked Weasel. 'Now, repeat after me, Mr. Weasley. Haleo Extractus.'

'Haleo Extractus,' Weasley replied. By the look on Snape's face it was obvious Weasley had said it wrong.

Snape turned to the class, 'Ha-leo. Extra-ctus. The a's are pronounced as in the word 'air' – a long a.'

Snape waited... 'Well, repeat!' he commanded.

'Ha-leo Extra-ctus, ' we repeated.

'Very good, Slytherins. Gryffindor- again.'

I smirked- what a brilliant class I was in, I thought as the Gryffindors repeated the curse five times.

Finally satisfied, Snape proceeded to showing the class the wand movements. 'You draw your hand towards you, twist your wrist over, then drive your hand forward an arms length. Practice, without commands.'

As the students around me practiced, I watched Snape flexing his wrist and arm, as if getting ready to display the curse.

'Mr. Weasley,' he called out, 'Walk to the other side of the board,' he said lazily.

As if walking to his own funeral, Weasel approached the area then turned around.

'You can defend yourself in any way you deem necessary – or that will work.'

My smirk widened as I heard Potter whisper to someone beside him, 'There's got to be some rule against this.'

'Now, one... two...' riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

The bell that meant class was over went off.

What a pity.

Snape sighed, then said loudly to the class, which was already packing it's books away. I would like a ten inch parchment about the various wizards who used and the one wizard who made this curse. Due next class.'

He walked over to his office in the back of his class, and before he shut the door, I could have sworn to hear him say, 'Well, maybe next time.'

Smirking, I quickly made my way out of class. Good, I thought, the trio hasn't left yet. 'Weasley,' I shouted, 'Hey, Weasley.'

The small group all turned around with frowns on their faces. 'What is it Malfoy?' Granger replied saucily.

'I wasn't talking to you, Mudblood,' I said, looking down at the annoying girl. 'So, Weasley,' I repeated, 'too bad Snape didn't get to play that curse on you, better

luck next time.'

'Shove off, Malfoy,' said Weasley, whose face seemed to regain its natural redness.

'Ya,' said Potter, 'you know what Snape did was against the rules.'

Why, of course, I thought sarcastically, anything you say Saint Potter.

'But,' I said looking down into Potter's annoying clear green eyes, 'we Slytherins don't always play by the rules, now do we?'

I watched Potter's eyes cloud with confusion and anger, when Granger replied, 'Well, Ron and I will be watching for any rule breaking then, won't we?'

So, she thinks she has me there, now does she? Ok, maybe she does.

I was just about to say a finishing remark, when I saw Potter's eyes look up at someone behind me.

'Hello Professor Dumbledore,' he said, a grin on his face.

Great, the old fool.

'Hello Harry,' said a feminine voice. Wait, feminine?

I turned around and saw the new Potions teacher. She was carrying a goblet

of a warm, steaming potion in one hand and a light book in the other. Her witch's hat was sitting on her head at an angle, leaving her brown hair down to her shoulders.

Looking back at Potter, I steamed inwardly at his joke. Oh, very funny, making me think it was the old fool, when it was his niece.

She walked up closer, stopped, then said, 'Hi Hermione, Ron...' she looked my way, 'and who's this?'

The pregnant woman looked at Harry, questionably and asked, 'maybe, a friend?'

But, something about the way she said it made me think that she was playing stupid, like she knew exactly what kind of 'friendship' there was between us.

Potter looked at Weasley and it seemed like they were going to burst out laughing.

So, I answered myself, 'No, Potter and I are... classmates.'

She looked at me again, 'Oh, alright,' there was a brief silence as she looked at us all. 'Well, it was nice seeing you all. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. Have a nice day,' and with that, she walked off into Snape's classroom.

Finding no reason to hang around any longer, I walked off to my dorms.

Mr. Malfoy? I thought, she knew who I was from the beginning.

What was she playing at? Acting oblivious on second, then wise the next.

That's crackers.

She's crackers.

Well, she's also a Dumbledore.

Hmm, gotta give him credit.

With case 'Dumbledore's niece' dismissed, I said the password to the portrait, 'Knockturn Alley.'

Entering the dorm, I spread my books over one of the tables and started writing Snape's essay. Halfway through, I felt someone sitting beside me.

'Hey Draco,' said Nott, looking down at what I was doing, 'need help?'

'No, ' I said smoothly. I looked up at Nott and realized he wasn't done talking. He looked at my face and gave me a special look.

Oh, he wants to talk about that.

'Have they said anything?' I asked, my voice much quieter as I went back to my work.

'Yes, they want our full cooperation.'

'But, I can't give them anything until we're out of school.'

'They say it might be over by then. You know the Dark Lord, he wants to be sure of our cooperation, he wants to give us ...'

'The Dark Mark... I know, I know.' Abandoning my quill, I ran my hand through my hair. Father had said I shouldn't get it until out of school.

It's not like I have to do what my father says, I'm not a daddy's boy.

But, for once, I think he's right.

Things are getting hotter, more frequent attacks, people 'forgetting' things, kidnappings. I don't want to be thrown in Azkaban, because they think I've done something. I don't want to give them any proof.

If I get the Dark Mark, the proof is as vivid as a black skull on my arm.

Nott's determined and slightly pompous voice interrupted my thoughts, 'School doesn't matter anymore. This is our future, we _should_ get the Dark Mark.'

'My future,' I murmured. This isn't my future.

To follow one. One I can't trust, one I barely know.

But, it will lead to my success.

Father and Narcissa followed him, and now the Malfoy name is everywhere.

They succeeded, so will I.

But, not right now.

I shouldn't get it now.

'When should we get it?' I asked Nott, getting back to my work. The essay was nearly finished.

'As soon as possible,' he said, and I looked up to see an abnormal gleam in his dark, coal colored eyes.

'I'll owl the others and tell them we're ready,' he said quickly, getting up.

But, I felt something was wrong. Things were going to fast. For once, I wasn't sure of what to do.

'Wait,' Nott stopped and turned my way leaving his hair slightly dishelved, 'our owls may be watched. You know the fool, Dumbledore. He's probably thought of everything.'

I looked back down at my work, hoping he wouldn't send the letter.

'Fine,' he said, walking back, 'You're right, Hogsmeade then.'

'Yes, Hogsmeade...'

'Hogsmeade?' said a girly voice, 'You want to make me there, Dracky Poo?'

Moaning inwardly, I snapped, 'No, Parkinson. And how many times have I told you _not_ to call me that?'

'Umm...' she said, bringing a finger to her heavily glossed lips, 'I dunno?'

'Anyways, are you sure you weren't planning anything for Hogsmeade?'

'Positive, Parkinson, ' I said, finishing my essay.

'No date? My parents think you should take me on at least one official date before giving me my engagement ring, you know.'

'Look Parkinson,' I said, rolling up my essay and putting the ink away, 'we don't go on dates. We don't love each other. And, we are not getting engaged.'

'So, you just want to marry me, right away!'

'Parkinson,' I growled, looking straight at her, 'We are not getting married.'

It seemed like it had finally sunk in, since she sat quietly for a minute just looking at me.

'But, then why... Why did you take me to the Yule Ball?'

'There was no one else,' I said quickly, 'no one else was suitable enough.'

She sat quietly, then bursted out, 'WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME? WHAT DON'T YOU FIND SUITABLE...'

Finding her outburst catching to much unwanted attention, I clamped my hand around her mouth. 'Shut it, Parkinson,' I whispered, bringing my wand near her neck, 'Not another word, understand?'

I let go of her and threw her on a couch. Turning my back to her, I went to sit by the window.

'You want to know what's wrong with you?' I asked finding tears in her eyes. 'You're too...too... extreme. You laugh too loud or you shout suddenly. I can read you as clearly as the Daily Prophet.'

'You're just plain crazy, crackers. I feel awful for your parents.'

'But,' she whimpered, 'I'm blonde, like you. Our children wouldn't turn out brunettes. We're both pure, we even live in the same house...'

'You're so,' Draco tried to explain, 'black and white.'

'NO,' said Parkinson angrily,' You're just gray... you don't know what you want. You're not sure, you're afraid...'

'Stop Talking, Parkinson,' said Draco dangerously. 'You don't know what you're saying. I'm too good for you. I will always be too good for you. So stop pestering me, crazy woman.'

With that, he climbed the stairs. Away from Parkinson, away from the Slytherins, away from everyone.

Into his gray thoughts.

**Author's Note**: Sorry, this took so long. I was busy working on later parts in this story. Please read and review. Tell me about everything that went through your head while reading this post. Ya, by the way, I changed the title of the story.


	6. Astronomy Tower

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Do you think that if I were J.K. Rowling, I would actually be doing this?... Never mind, who knows, maybe she would. Anyways, read and enjoy.

Ch. 5 Astronomy Towers

I hate Potter.

I hate that aggravatingly perfect little son of a mudblood.

Famous, saint Potter. I hate him.

Not only that, he has to turn out to be a constant challenge in Quidditch. Everything, everything he does. I Must Beat.

I hate his messy ebony hair. He never runs a comb through it, yet people worship him.

I hate his clear emerald eyes. So… clean… and surely green. He's so sure, isn't he? He knows exactly what he's going to do. Just go out there, be Dumbledore's pet, and beat the Dark Lord.

I hope he dies.

Why in the world is he so happy? Since when has he ever been happy in Potions! Oh, but of course, I think sarcastically, ever since Professor Dumbledore is the teacher.

'Now, come on, settle down,' she said with a grin. Unlike with Snape, where the class would quite with fear, here the class was actually eager to here what she would say… _eager_! Then again, fear didn't seem like it could penetrate into this class, brightly lit with large windows and on the second floor.

'Alright, you can call me Professor Chyssandra as I'm going to be your Potion's Master for the rest of your last year at Hogwarts. Now, we're going to brew a lovely potion. It's actually quite difficult,' she said, with a bit of a frown, 'but, I'm sure Hogwarts' 7th year students can handle it.'

'This potion,' she continued, 'will encourage the drinker to banish all sad thoughts from his or her mind, though for only a short period of time. Quite the opposite of the Dementors in Azkaban, isn't it?' she asked, looking around the class.

Now, being who I am, I simply couldn't resist letting out a comment. 'Potter, seems like you'll be needing this potion, eh?' Potter's green eyes flashed my way, and various Gryffindors looked over. 'Who knows when the Dementors will come to visit?' Slytherins around me, howled with laughter, as they looked over to see Potter's reaction. But…

'Why, Mr. Malfoy,' said Professor Dumbledore, as she causally waived the ingredients onto the board, 'that's not the most gracious comment to give, is it?'

'Oh,' I said, masking a sincere look onto my face, 'but I was only expressing my love,' I gazed over at Potter sarcastically, 'for Potter, here.'

'And how would you know love, Malfoy,' he spat- hey, I'm the one who spits people's names. 'I doubt you love your own mother.'

'But, you wouldn't know about loving a mother, would you, Potter?' I said with a smirk as his face reddened.

'That's enough,' said the Professor strictly. Suddenly, I realized that I had just argued with Potter in front of a Dumbledore. Who knows what would happen?

'How about we all get to work to finish this potion,' the class hustled with getting the ingredients. 'And, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy,' she said in a lower voice, 'you two can stay after class to finish your discussion.'

_Finish our discussion!?! _What, is this lady completely crackers? You don't finish these types of discussions… and how about lunch!

'But, Professor,' I said sleekly, 'surely, you won't want to keep us from our lunch. Nourishment is quite important for our minds to grow.' That's right, use the nourishment excuse.

'And your minds grow, so you can listen in class… without disrupting,' she looked at me, satisfied. _She_ knew that _I_ knew that _she_ won. 'We will meet after class.'

As I surely wasn't looking forward to a meeting with a Dumbledore and Potter, no less… I found that time had a way of running rather quick. Soon, the lunch bell rang.

'Dracky?' Parkinson questioned as she gathered her bag and handed me mine.

'No,' I said glancing at her, as she put my bag back down, 'I have to meet with Dumbledore junior here.' I walked to Professor Chyssandra's desk and found Potter already leaning against it.

'Professor Chyssandra, I didn't mean to disrupt your class… especially on the first day,' said Potter, looking down.

'I would like to say 'That's alright' except- it's not,' said the Professor, her blue eyes wandering over to mine. 'And, I believe it's someone else's fault as well.'

My turn to say something sappy-- 'My apologies, Professor Dumbledore…'

'Chyssandra,' she interrupted me, 'you can call me Chyssandra.' I looked into her blue eyes and found them… surprisingly…clear.

No, clear wasn't the word… Her eyes were clear blue, but they weren't really clear at all…

'Professor Chyssandra,' she finished.

'Professor Chyssandra,' I repeated, jerking out of my thoughts.

Quickly, my eyes looked away and at Potter. He had an eyebrow way up in his hair and was looking between the both of us.

'What Potter? Haven't you ever been taught that it's rude to stare,' I said saucily. I didn't like that gaze, and I didn't like to even think about what he was thinking.

'Right Malfoy,' said Potter blinking, 'Why don't you just shut…'

'That's enough,' said Professor Chyssandra strictly. 'Why are you two bickering, again?'

'I don't like being stared at Professor,' I said with an exaggerated sigh, 'It makes me feel uncomfortable.' I looked down at my nails, truly uninterested in what Potter would say.

'I don't like being insulted Professor,' said Potter, glaring my way, 'especially by him.'

_I knew he'd say that._

'Hmm… that's rather sad,' sighed Professor Chyssandra, 'Detention.'

'What!' I cried, eyes looking up, away from my nails. I don't recall a Dumbledore ever giving a detention.

'Nice to have your attention, Mr. Malfoy,' said Professor Chyssandra saucily, 'I knew anything involving something you didn't want to do would get it.'

I looked into her gaze coolly, successfully ignoring Potter's snickers.

'No, there is no detention,' she said quietly, 'and I also hope that there will be no more bickering. Dismissed.'

Turning my back, I quickly picked up my bag and strolled out of the classroom. I didn't like that woman. I didn't like Potter. And, I wanted my lunch.

Whatever, I thought, just eat lunch, go to Arithmacy and get ready for Quidditch.

The rest of the day passed without much event. Parkinson annoyed me throughout lunch, as Vincent and Gregory tried to make a bit of conversation. In Arithmacy, I thought about who I would probably murder first: competitive Nott or know-it-all Granger.

Then, it was time for Quidditch. I strolled onto the pitch with Gregory and Vincent lumbering in my wake. No, they weren't the best of company, but they weren't bad either. They actually did have some brains—contrary to popular belief. But, a few still thought, why would I keep dimwits, like them, to be my closest companions?

Because, of their loyalty. No, my father didn't intimidate their fathers, and the Dark Lord didn't force it. It was completely natural, they were the body, and I was the brain. I could keep them out of trouble and they would back me up.

Saddling my broom, I shot into the air. I owned a Firebolt…duh. You think I'd let Potter even beat me at brooms! I'm rich and therefore I can own what I wish. Unlike the Weasel… hehe.

Drop the laugh, I thought suddenly, what next… I shuddered to think.

Besides what common relief flying gave me, I thought of what moves we could use for the upcoming game.

The day was darkening and I landed my broom with a quiet thump, when I realized that a few Gryffindors were coming onto the pitch. Oh, I thought happily, not just any Gryffindors. Three very special one's.

Grinning inwardly at the opportunity, I strolled to the trio with a few Slytherins following.

'Why, look who it is,' I called loudly, 'If it isn't Potty, the Weasel, and the Mudblood.' A hiss of laughter arose from behind me, and I myself let out a snickering laugh.

After a few cold looks, Potter and his crew walked past us.

_They just walked past us._

_**They** ignored **me**!_

Potter's gonna get it, I thought, immediately infuriated. How dare that… that… infuriating little boy do that!

'Hey, Potter!' I shouted. Of course, he turned around, as did the others.

'What, Malfoy?' he asked, looking at me coolly.

'Don't even try with the extra practices, Potter,' I said, just as coolly, 'Your team won't beat mine.'

Potter seemed to freeze for a moment, then he looked up at me and replied, 'I don't have to try, Malfoy… I can beat you, just like I have for the past six years.'

Oh, he stung a nerve. No- he stung too many nerves. And you don't want to have an incensed Malfoy in front of you.

Weasley- happy I suppose- retorted, 'What's the matter, Malfoy? Gonna call your Daddy?'

**That's it! I'm a Malfoy in a bad mood!**

'You. Me,' I snapped at Potter, 'tonight. Astronomy tower. And, we'll see

who'll be calling for their daddy's then, shall we?' I said, glaring at the Weasel.

'Why wait,' asked Potter recklessly, a light of defiance showing visibly in his eyes. 'Right here, right now.'

'Oh,' I said quickly, 'but, we wouldn't want you beaten in front of your friends, now would we?'

Suddenly, a voice broke through, 'Anythin' wrong, Harry?' Why of course, it was that old brute, Hagrid, waltzing out of the forest.

'Nothing sir,' I answered sleekly, 'We we're simply,' I looked at Potter who seemed angry that I didn't give him a chance to answer, 'deciding upon something,' and I grabbed Potter's hand as if to shake it, but instead grabbed him close and

whispered carefully in his ear, 'Nine - where I said before.'

I walked off slowly, carefully planning what I was going to do. My blood was racing through my veins, excited. As, I entered the Great Hall, I found the tables already eating dinner. Taking my seat next to Parkinson, I was immediately bombarded with questions.

'What did you tell him?'

'Who???'

'Is he going to accept your challenged?'

'Who'd you challenge?'

'Whoooo???'

'Shut it Gregory,' I snapped swiftly, and the rest of the people around me fell silent. 'Potter and I will finish what we started on the first day of school tonight. On the Astronomy tower.

'Oh,' said Gregory dully as he went back to stuffing his mouth.

'Good job, Drackie,' said Parkinson, clinging to my arm. I rolled my eyes silently and looked up to the teacher's table. It was usual, Snape was looking my way, eyebrows only so slightly raised. I would meet him later.

'If you're dueling, I can take the place as your second.' Nott said, voice almost as innocent and sweet as honey- almost.

'That won't be necessary, Nott,' I said, 'as long as we're alone, I can take on Potter without a hitch.'

'The Dark Lord couldn't… with all his Death Eaters,' said Nott, his voice lowered to a heated whisper, 'Are you saying that you're better than them?' A maniac glint lit his usually dull coal black eyes.

Best to ignore this kind of conversation, I thought. 'I'm done with dinner,' I said quickly, 'Snape wanted a word.'

Leaving the Great Hall, I headed straight to the DADA room on the first floor. I entered the classroom silently and closed the door behind me. However, as I walked to the back office-

'Come in, Mr. Malfoy,' said a low sleek voice.

I entered the office to see Snape standing over a large book, nearly as big as a desk. 'Don't let Granger see that,' I warned, 'no doubt she'll be begging to read it.'

'Should I hide it from Granger… or from you?' Snape said slyly, his eyes leaving the book as he sat on his large chair. His faced relaxed and he smirked when he saw my outraged face.

'I don't read that much,' I retorted.

'But, you're that much more curious,' he said, then hinted, 'There was quite a commotion at the Slytherin table today.'

'I've challenged Potter to a duel,' I said proudly, chin stuck high in the air.

'Are you planning to go?' Snape asked, signaling for me to sit down.

'Of course,' I said immediately, then, 'unlike in first year.'

'Exactly,' Snape said. My relationship with Snape wasn't teacher-student. It was more like he was my second father. When I first came to Hogwarts, Snape was the teacher I admired. He was a powerful wizard and a smart man. No, he wasn't all jolly, but that didn't bother me; he played life like how it was, and he played his part well.

In front of other people, he simply favored me. What others didn't know, was that I favored him as well- as a father.

'How's Potion's with Professor Dumbledore?' Snape asked.

'Not like yours, of course. But, she really isn't a bad teacher, I suppose,' I

looked at Snape to find him watching me carefully, 'Is there any 'news' I should know about her. Like…,' I pretended to think, 'who she's…'

'married to,' he answered, an eyebrow raised. Of course Snape knew what I was going to ask, he's a Legilimens.

'Yes… so, who is it?' I asked curiously.

'You seem unusually interested,' he said casually, 'Why?'

'Our teacher's don't usually just come to school pregnant,' I said, extremely straightforward. Then added in a mumble, 'Some man was having fun at the end of last year.'

At this, Snape colored slightly, 'Draco,' he said, with an eyebrow raised, 'what a thing to think about.'

'What else do we guys think about,' I said seriously.

'So,' said Snape, changing the subject, 'How's Ms. Parkinson?'

'Herself,' I said, as if that explained everything, 'her parent's agree to marriage.'

'You gave her a ring?!' Snape asked suddenly.

'NO,' I looked at him with a look asking if he thought I was crazy, 'she brought it up with them from her mind. I don't even agree.'

'Why not?' asked Snape lightly, though he knew there was much more to it.

And with that question I couldn't answer why. She was pureblood, rich, Slytherin… and even blonde, everything was fine.

Except for her, of course.

'You know, Nott will take her if you don't,' Snape said seriously.

'Yes,' I said, 'then I might as well marry her, she's the best of the lot, anyway.'

Snape stood, 'Think carefully about marriage Draco. Marriage comes with care and responsibility, whether you trust the person or not,' he stood over his book again and said, 'You don't want to be late for your meeting with Potter.' I glanced at the clock, it was ten-till nine. As I raced to the door, he said, 'Tell me how it goes. OH, and Draco.' I stopped and turned around, 'Don't give him too much damage, I'd have to sign papers asking if I knew who did it.'

Grinning, I made my way out the door. Time to give Potter what he deserved.

Once up on the Astronomy tower, I realized I still had my broom in my hand. Urgh, I thought, I could have at least put it away. But, then I heard a series of footsteps coming up the tower and realized that not only one person was coming.

'Harry, I don't think we should do this, we could be caught!'

'Aaah, come on Hermione, we're Head Boy and Girl-'

'and that's exactly why we shouldn't be here, Ron!'

'Hey, don't argue, I didn't ask you guys to come.'

As they came into view, I leaned back on the wall of the tower. 'So, the whole trio is here, I should have known.'

'Let's get this over with, Malfoy,' said Potter, taking out his wand.

'I'd barely say this was a fair fight,' I said, truly unhappy with there being three against one.

'Since when do Slytherins play fair, Malfoy?' said Weasley rudely.

'Why don't you just go home with the Mudblood, Weasel,' I said as Weasley reddened, 'and say hello to your fat mum for me, while you're at it.'

'Don't you call her that again,' said Weasley, taking a lunge at me. Before I knew it, my back slammed against the wall and I was half over the edge, backwards.

'No, Ron! Don't,' shouted Granger, holding onto the Weasel's sweater. As Granger pulled Weasel off me, I recognized my chance. Quickly, I pushed them both away, but with more force than I meant to.

There comes a time for everyone when time seems to slow down slightly. For Draco Malfoy time slowed down immensely.

From the force of the push, Hermione tripped and fell slowly to the floor of the top of the tower. Ron pummeled backwards, and tripped over Granger's form, but instead of falling to the floor, he remained upright. And continued to stumble backwards until he hit the opposite side of the tower's rim… His back arched backwards and he fell.

Ronald Arthur Weasley fell off the tip of the Astronomy tower.

'_Ron!!!'_ Granger shrieked, standing to look over the tower's edge.

My heartbeat speeding, I looked around wildly and my eyes looked straight into a pair of green ones. Potter's.

He was thinking and so many thoughts were flying across his eyes. Anger… fear…

Suddenly, in that moment, Granger grabbed Potter's broom. And before Potter could ask her what was going through her head, she jumped off the edge, with the broom.

Potter looked at me. This time, fear was distinct in his eyes. Through the shrieks and screams from below, he said,

'She's afraid of heights.'

**Author's Note**: Sorry, this took so long. It was a serious case of Writer's Block! Please read and review. Tell me about everything that went through your head while reading this post. Oh, and I'll put up the new story.


	7. I and Them and Her

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Do you think that if I were J.K. Rowling, I would actually be doing this?... Never mind, who knows, maybe she would. Anyways, read and enjoy.

Ch.6 I and Them and Her

Weasley had fallen off the Astronomy Tower, and Granger had jumped off after him, carrying Potter's broom. And what makes matters worse, Granger's afraid of heights and hasn't ridden a broom in six years.

'Oh my God,' I thought, this is going to be completely my fault. He stumbled, I pushed him… it was my right to push him- self defense. The Weasel would have choked me.

**3 sec. since Ron fell off the Tower**

Suddenly, in that millisecond of my thoughts, I felt my broom snatched out of my hands. I looked to see Potter mounting my broom.

'Hey,' I managed to blurt out – until Potter threw himself off the edge.

**5 sec. since Ron fell off the Tower**

'Bloody Merlin,' I whispered, rushing to the edge. My blonde hair fell in front of my eyes as I looked over the edge at the hundreds of feet below.

What do I do, What do I do, What do I do??? I thought frantically. I am going to be responsible of the murder of three people, amongst them, Saint Harry Potter.

OH god, I thought. I have to do something, and I have to do it now!

**6.5 sec. since Ron fell off the Tower**

Immediately, I became the eagle owl that was my animagus form. Instantly letting out a shriek, I flew down the stairs and raced down moving staircases to the first floor. I glided past empty hallways and flew straight into the open door of the DADA room. I saw Snape look up abruptly as I transfigured into a human, still in the air. Panting, I stood to face him.

**10 sec. since Ron fell off the Tower**

'What! What happened?' he asked, standing quickly.

'He… I… and tower…' I panted.

Paling, Snape said with understanding, 'Potter – what did you do?' He muttered a spell at me and I regained my breath instantly.

'Weasley fell off the Astronomy Tower, and Granger and Potter jumped off after him,' I said as fast as my tongue could move.

'WHAT!' cried Snape. Immediately, he threw powder into the fire and dragged me and himself into it.

**15 sec. since Ron fell off the Tower**

I was standing in Dumbledore's office, and before me was Dumbledore, dressed in his bedroom wear. He looked curiously at Snape and I, since Snape was holding me from the top of my arm.

'They fell off the Tower,' said Snape without delay.

The twinkle once present in Dumbledore's eyes flashed and went out. He looked straight at a large red bird in his room, sitting on a bar.

'Fawkes, Go!' he shouted.

The bird, Fawkes, instantly burst into flames, then disappeared.

**17 sec. since Ron fell off the Tower**

Quickly, Dumbledore threw a powder similar to that of Snape's into his fire. He shouted, 'Chyssandra! Now, **They** fell. Astronomy Tower!'

'I'm going!' said a young woman's voice from the other side of the rippling flame.

Dumbledore threw more powder into the flames, 'Minerva! Please join us now.'

A second later, a much disheveled Professor McGonagall entered the room wearing a robe over her nightclothes.

'Sit, please,' said Dumbledore, taking a seat behind his desk.

Professor McGonagall seemed angry at the fact that she had just been awakened only to sit down. McGonagall sat at the seat near Dumbledore's desk on his right, Snape on his left, and I was summoned a chair near the front.

'I have just heard, not a minute ago, that Harry Potter, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley have fallen off the Astronomy Tower...'

'What!' shouted McGonagall, jolted awake suddenly.

'However,' continued Dumbledore, 'that is now under control. Once I was alerted by Severus, I sent Fawkes and Chyssandra.' McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. 'I expect them here in a few minutes.'

'And yet, I would very much like to know,' Dumbledore's eyes bored into my face,' **exactly** how this tragic incident happened. And I would like to know, **now.**'

I looked up at Snape, who was looking at me – disappointed.

'I…' I stuttered, 'I was – Potter and I were going to be discussing something on the Astronomy Tower,' I said quickly, not daring to look into Dumbledore's hard gaze.

'He- Potter brought Granger and Weasley along with him. Weasley and I – we got into a fight. And in self- defense,' I said, remembering my thoughts earlier, 'I pushed him, since he had it in his mind to strangle me-' I looked around and found the three Professors looking at me, 'so… I pushed him… and… he stumbled and fell off the tower.' I said in a rush.

'So, Granger. She sorta went bezerk, she grabbed Potter's broom and jumped off after him. And then Potter stole my broom and jumped off as well.'

I stopped talking and looked into Professor Dumbledore's eyes coolly, when I felt like I was bubbling inside.

'You pushed Mr. Weasley in an act of self defense,' said Dumbledore calmly, 'and then what did you do after Mr. Potter jumped off the roof of the tower?'

Finding this among the most unusual questions to have been asked, I raised an eyebrow. 'You would like to know what _I_ did?' I asked, 'I didn't do anything!' immediately, I tried to calm my voice, 'None of what happened is related to anything that I did,' I said slowly, looking anywhere but Dumbledore's eyes. It seemed that only the both of us were in the room, that I didn't hear McGonagall's snort or see Snape shake his head.

'How did Snape find out about what happened. Did he see it happen? Or perhaps everything was over before I sent Fawkes and Mr. Potter might have told him- though I find it unlikely,' said Dumbledore looking my way.

That's what he was asking, I realized, then decided to tell him. 'I- after that happened,' get yourself under control, I told myself, enough stuttering, 'After those events, I immediately told Snape what happened and he brought us here.'

'I would think that it is quite a long walk from the tip of the Astronomy Tower to Professor Snape's classroom on the first floor. How did you get there in time?

Oh no, I thought. What do I say, I didn't have my broom- so I can't say I flew. Apparating is out of the question, so only one thing left, 'I ran.'

'You ran?' repeated Dumbledore.

'I know a shortcut,' I said quickly, 'a series of very good shortcuts.'

'Is that so?' said Dumbledore, 'How interesting.'

At that moment, I could hear someone coming up the rotating staircase Dumbledore had. I heard crying, panting, and a soothing voice.

The door to Dumbledore's office opened and Fawkes flew threw to land on his perch. Weasley walked threw as well, with Granger crying her eyes out on his neck. She seemed glued to him, and as Professor Chyssandra tried to pry her fingers off Weasley, Granger only held on tighter, wailing.

And then Potter walked in.

**1 sec. later**

My chair was over turned and I was on the ground, struggling for my life. Potter had his hands clamped down on my neck and seemed to have it in his head to beat the hell out of me.

But, this time there weren't two people on me, just one. I brought up my fist and punched Potter in the face, cleanly letting his glasses fly across the room.

Yet, suddenly, we were pulled forcefully apart.

'Get off me! GET OFF ME!' Potter shouted, his green eyes- now uncovered by his glasses- were brilliantly lit with raw anger. 'I'll KILL him, I'LL KILL HIM!' Yet, the magic that held us apart wouldn't let him – or I – move from our places.

In a last attempt, he pulled out his wand at a terrifying speed.

It was then, that for me – time stopped.

Was this how I, Draco Malfoy, was going to die? The look in Potter's eyes were unmistakable – death. In one breath, he could kill me, he would kill me.

What about all the French lessons, waltzing, perfect manners? Had everything that I had been taught in the Mansion going to go unused?

Was I going to die, standing in the Headmaster's office, surrounded by undoubtedly three of the most powerful wizards, facing the one and only Harry Potter?

Had my insults stung that much?

'EXPELIARMUS!'

Dumbledore stood – nearly glowing with power – holding Potter's wand.

Professor Chyssandra and McGonagall were standing around Harry, talking quickly… undoubtedly trying to soothe him.

I felt Severus take a hold of my shoulders, he was shaking me… getting me to look at him. But a haze was spreading over my vision, I couldn't focus.

The world seemed to dull – time started to slow…

I heard him call out in alarm; he was still shaking me-

'Draco? Draco!!'

I could hear my heart beat. I could hear myself breathing.

And in pure relief, I fainted.

Later, I opened my eyes to the face of my Professor, Snape. I was in the Hospital Wing, and a pale light was crawling through the windows.

'What time is it?' I slurred.

'Very early,' said Snape briefly as I sat up, 'How are you feeling?'

I grumbled, thinking if I could get away with skipping a lesson, but when I saw Snape's raised eyebrows, I said, 'Fine… fine… why am I here?'

He let out a hoarse laugh, 'You fainted… in front of Potter and Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger.'

'I - what? When,' suddenly, everything came flooding back to me. 'No – don't answer that.' I was silent for a few minutes.

'Does Dumbledore know… about,' I looked around the empty room,' the owl?' I hinted.

'No,' said Snape quickly, 'but he more than suspects.' He looked me in the eye, 'We all do – they hadn't even hit the ground by the time Fawkes got there. You came impossibly fast.'

'I know,' I said thoughtfully, 'So, what do I do?'

'There is nothing you can do, if Albus and Minerva both suspect you – they'll find out,' he paused as we both heard quick light footsteps, and the sudden opening of the Hospital Wing door.

'You'll be able to go to classes today – if you want,' said Snape, teacher's mask in place, accompanied with a smirk. Parkinson came to my bed, panting.

When Snape had left, she said quietly, 'You didn't come back last night.'

'Obviously,' I pointed to my surroundings.

'Is it because of… the duel with the whole trio.'

'No – how did you know they were all there?' I asked curiously.

'Hexed some Quidditch player,' she said with a wave of her hand. I was slightly impressed, but then again I knew Pansy could get quite handy with her wand, she knew some of the most useful spells – in times of defense.

'What really happened,' I explained, 'is…' I paused. Should I tell her this? But, I continued, 'Weasel fell off the Astronomy Tower,' her eyebrows shot into her hair, ' then Potter and Granger jumped after him.'

'Really,' she interrupted.

'I'm not lying,' I said strictly, 'So, of course, the only choice I had was to tell Snape, who told Dumbledore. Now, they're fine,' I sighed sadly.

'And you're here, because?' she looked at me curiously.

Now, this was something I really didn't want to say. She'll tell everyone, I thought. So, I said, 'Potter tried to strangle me –'

'Why?' she said, straightening.

'I don't know- probably for pushing the Weasel off the Tower or something…' I said normally. ' When he didn't succeed, he was going to Avada Kedavra me –'

'WHAT,' she cried, standing up.

'Dumbledore stopped him,' I said, 'and so I only fainted.'

'Oh, Draco,' she said, great sadness in her eyes as she pushed my hair out of

my forehead. 'I was…,' he voice lowered to a whisper, 'so worried.'

I looked into her eyes and found true sadness there, no mask. I remembered what I had told her last.

_  
'Stop Talking, Parkinson,' I growled dangerously. 'You don't know what you're saying. I'm too good for you. I will always be too good for you. So stop pestering me, crazy woman.'_

Yet, she was the only one who was here.

'Thank you,' I said solidly, 'for your concern.' A minute later, she was gone.

An hour later, I heaved myself up to go down to breakfast. Getting properly dressed, I joined my fellow Slytherins at our house table.

'Tell us what happened,' was the first thing I heard as I sat down.

'No, no,' I gave a huge fake yawn, 'I'm feeling rather tired.' I looked over at Parkinson, who was gracefully smirking. 'Lunch.'

I decided to skive off divination, making sure Snape wrote her a note though. I always liked the castle when it was much quieter. Time passed gracefully, though soon it was lunch. That was when I decided to tell them the story.

'He just bloody fell off the tower,' I explained, 'The crazy kid. And, then you wouldn't even bloody believe what happened. The Mudblood jumped after him; of course, she grabbed Potter's broom, but then she just jumped. She hasn't ridden a broom in six years, and Potter said she was afraid of heights.

Well, of course, what does the Saint Potter do? He just bloody steals my own brooms and jumps off the bloody tower. He jumped off the bloody tower- with my broom! I mean, I would have been pleased to have him finally dead, but with my broom- no.

Of course,' I said royally, 'Somehow Dumbledore rescued them. Bloody luck, I'll tell you.'

I turned to look at Crabbe and Goyle. 'Can you possibly believe it? How in the world did he jump off that tower- what got into his head?'

'Well, they are his friends, I guess,' said Goyle.

'Friends?' I laughed, 'If I fell off a tower, would you jump off to save me- not that I'd do anything so stupid.'

I looked at them and curiously my side of the table fell silent. No one looked into my eyes. Parkinson seemed preoccupied with her nails, Zambini had started serving himself some food, and the rest were simply looking down.

'Would you,' I repeated quietly, 'Would anyone jump off the tower?'

'Well, it's never happened before, Draco. We shouldn't worry ourselves with such things,' said Nott smoothly as the other's faces looked up and nodded in agreement.

'If I fell off a tower,' I repeated slowly, 'would _anyone_ save me?'

I looked at Parkinson; there was a curious look in her eyes – like she wanted to ask me something, but not here.

And in the silence I realized that none of them would. But, if we were friends, they would. If we were friends… were we friends? No, we were just that… Slytherins. Oh, how the word covered so many lies and sins… betrayals. I think it's better kept that way.

For, **I** wouldn't jump off any bloody towers for **them**.

Ancient Runes was a boring experience. I simply huffed arrogantly throughout it all, without so much as holding a quill. Granger took so much notes that I didn't doubt she could publish a book of what Bins was saying. Nott would look at me every once in a while then take a few notes himself.

So, it was with great pleasure that I heard the bell to dinner and found myself strolling out of the class.

In the Great Hall, I sat at my table. Gregory and Vincent on either side of me, Nott and Zambini in front, when suddenly I felt someone missing.

'Where's Parkinson?' I asked, curiously.

'Dunno,' said Vincent, 'I saw her in Divination today.'

'There she is,' said Gregory suddenly, pointed to the large wooden doors of the Great Hall.

I looked towards there, and automatically felt that something was wrong. No – more than that… much more.

Her straightened blonde hair bounced where she had a few curls. Her green robes, trimmed with silver, fairly floated behind her as she walked to the Gryffindor table.

What in the world was she doing, strolling to the Gryffindor table?!?

Simultaneously, we seemed to look into each other's eyes. She was furious, as much as she was trying to hide it behind the blue of her eyes, I could see it. She stopped by Potter's part of the table. She was furious at him, for me.

She was doing this **for me**.

Oh no, I thought as Granger got up, with her eyes narrowed. Then there was shouting. Potter laughed. In practically no time at all, Pansy had her wand out.

In pure shock, the whole picture seemed to go deaf to only my ears. Why was she standing up **for me?**

Then the trio had their wands out as well. And Potter stood up close to Pansy. Too close for safety.

Too close to **her** who was doing this **for me.**

'Hey!!' I shouted, purposely attracting the attention of the Professors, 'What do you think you're doing, Potter!?!' With that I quickly stood up and walked to Pansy's side, putting an arm around her waist. I could hear the teacher's coming, but I still fit in one more comment. 'Is that what you're good at, Potter,' I said, an eyebrow up and smirk in place, 'beating up a girl? 3 against 1, that's hardly fair.'

By then, Snape was here, 'What has happened? Ms. Parkinson, what's the matter?' I looked at Pansy surprised – there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her before.

'Oh, Professor,' she sighed, 'I'm feeling quite nauseous,' she swayed in my arms, 'I think I just might…' and then her knees bucked and she fainted. I had already picked up on the plan, so I held Pansy in my arms.

'Professor Snape,' I cried, as though fighting for justice, 'They ganged up against her- 3 against 1. And now, she's fainted.'

'Take her to the hospital wing, Mr. Malfoy,' said Snape formally, 'And I will deal with these three for attacking my student.'

As soon as I had carried Pansy out of the large wooden doors of the Great Hall, I turned onto the grounds. Lightly, Pansy jumped out of my arms and grinned brightly.

'That was quite a performance, Pansy,' I said looking at her as she fairly bounced on the grounds. It was sunset, and the last rays of the sun reflected her blonde hair gracefully.

And, it was then that I realized that she was beautiful. Pansy Parkinson was a beautiful witch. She was talking to me, flicking her hair and smirking evilly, but for the second time in those few days, I didn't hear what was being said.

All I could do was comprehend what had just happened. And as I looked at her in the stunning rays of the sun, I realized that she was the only one who stood up for me. That she was beautiful, not only in looks or elegance. But, her mind, though sometimes quite stubborn, worked quite quickly. That she could concoct evil plans in the shortest amount of time. That she could manipulate the scene around her.

She was an evil and beautiful little witch.

And I loved it.

'Draco? Draco, are you listening to anything I'm saying?' I heard as Pansy looked into my eyes.

'What?' I said, looking at her impatient form, 'What were you saying?'

'I wanted to ask you something,' she said, then cautiously looked away from me towards the lake. 'Do you remember… at lunch, when you asked if anyone would jump off the tower for you?'

'Yes,' I said, eyebrows lowering, what in the world was she talking about that for?

'Well,' she looked towards me, 'I must ask you something first.'

'What is it,' I asked slowly, 'that you want to ask me?'

'Would you…,' she paused, then looked at me, her blue eyes bright, 'Would you jump off the tower for me?'

That was what she wanted to ask me?

Ha, I could almost laugh.

Almost.

What in the world was I supposed to say to that?

And, for once in my life, I considered actually saying the truth.

'I… if you were in danger,' I said, looking at her, 'I mean – life threatening. Then, I… I'd jump off the tower for you Pansy Parkinson. For you, I would.

But, only you,' I said, looking at her intently, as she grinned in the fading light. 'And maybe my mother,' I added, thoughtfully.

'So, you didn't mean it?' she asked, 'about… I'm not black and white, anymore?'

'No,' I said strictly,' you're still black and white; I'm just no longer gray.'

And, in a fit of tears, she threw herself at me, in a massive hug.

'Parkinson? Parkinson!?!,' I said, thinking: What in the world is happening?

'It's just,' she said, her breath catching, 'I love you.'

Oh.

Oh.

Oh my.

Later, the door of the Great Hall opened and Nott, Zambini, Vincent, and Gregory came out to meet us.

'Nice show,' said Nott.

**I** looked at **them** standing there, with **her** at my side.

And **I **was no longer alone.

**Author's Note**: Don't you just love Dracky- what a hero! sigh So, anyways- do u like the chapter? Hope so, cause I do! Lol, please review!


	8. The Engagement

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of J.K.Rowling's. She has every right to claim all the characters. She wrote the books, not me!

Ch. 7 The Engagement

'Tell me, why did we choose to do Divination?'

'Jobs, dearest.'

'Of course. What are you writing in that letter, Pansy?'

'The reason we can't attend the next three classes of Divination.'

'And what might that reason be?'

'The way Saturn aligns with the Earth will cause great misfortune for a certain blonde couple.'

'Of course.'

'I love you, Dracky.'

'I know.'

Breakfast was always a pleasant event. But, today was going to be more special than usual. Fingering the little box in my pocket, I waited in anticipation until the time would be right.

As I sat at the Slytherin table, I remembered when I had owled my father about the occasion. Narcissa and Lucius had been pleased at my choice. Narcissa had even sent me a quieter and more private version of a howler to show me her appreciation.

As I was the only son, I got my grandmother's own wedding ring, to give to Pansy. Of course, I took it to Hogsmeade the past weekend to make a few changes. I didn't change the pure pale gold or studded diamonds and emeralds. On the inside of the ring, I found the perfect charm to engrave a poem.

And now, just to give it to her.

I looked towards Pansy, chatting amiably with a darker haired Slytherin girl beside her. I watched at the way she carried her words, waved her hands. I remembered my mother's words,

_'A good choice, Draco. She will do well as the next Mrs. Malfoy.'_

Suddenly, I watched Nott lean across the table and whisper something in Pansy's ear. She laughed slightly, and he continued talking with her. She nodded and her eyes drifted my way and I saw a strange emotion there. I raised an eyebrow slightly and watched her put down her quill, as she finished her letter. Then, Nott folded it and sent it away with one of the owls, which had just flew in. He looked at her, and put his hand on hers.

Immediately, an emotion took over me. It was as though a bucket of heat was

ungracefully thrown over me. It was as though Nott had just put his filthy claws over MY property.

And, I wanted nothing more than to growl and tear him apart.

But, that sounds like a lion – and I'm definitely not a Gryffindor.

So, instead.

I put my hand over her other one.

And, looked him straight in the eye with an expression that clearly said- though politely, mind you- Mine.

Nott's hand jerked off hers, and his fingers curled into his palm. Satisfied, I continued to hold Pansy's hand as I got up. A slight confusion on her face, she got up as well. Breakfast definitely wasn't over, though it had begun ten minutes ago.

Perfect timing, I thought. Everyone will be here.

Vincent and Gregory got to get up, but I lowered my eyes, signaling them to stay down. I walked around the back of the table and then started forward, towards the teachers tables. As I walked through the middle aisle, I took Pansy's left hand (she was on my right) and lifted it to my shoulder's height, only holding the tips of her fingers.

Chin forward, shoulders back, we walked down the aisle.

As generations had done before us.

Though I only looked ahead, I saw Weasley huff as he understood what we were doing. The rest of the Great Hall hushed as we strolled closer to the teacher's tables.

I always felt that I shouldn't do this in public, but both my parents had recommended it. Rumors may spread about how the ring was given, if it had been done in secret.

When we reached the end, I faced Pansy, her eyes glowing, and knelt on my right knee.

'Pansy William Parkinson,' I announced, feeling extremely awkward looking up at her - and slightly nervous at all the eyes looking at us.

'Will you' – _my hand slipped into my pocket, to the velvet box. I knew I was supposed to take it out after these two words, but... But… I wasn't offering her a ring. I was offering her **me**. It should be clear_ – 'be my betrothed?

I felt her take a slow intake of breath. I could almost hear her voice, wondering: Where's the ring? Does he have it?

'I do.'

And, she took **me.**

As a sigh rippled through the hall, my hand withdrew the red velvet box. I slipped the ring out of the box, and slowly put it on her right ring finger. Then, standing up, I looked at her, face to face, then lowered my head and slowly kissed her right hand.

Then, the Slytherins applauded. And, I walked back down the aisle and towards the large doors, with her arm slung in mine. As we neared the back of the hall, I decided to make one stop.

After all, we couldn't leave out Potter, could we?

His blessings were _supremely_ important.

Haha, I'm _so_ going to get him.

Standing before Potter, I glanced at Pansy – she was alright with the stop – and said, 'Potter, what? No blessing?'

'You have my blessing,' he replied brusquely, 'But, Malfoy? I didn't know your taste was _that_ bad.'

'Not bad at all, actually,' said Pansy, who had been previously examining her ring. 'Take a look, Weasley,' she said, 'I doubt you'll ever see anything like it.'

'And he most definitely won't be able to buy anything like it,' I replied.

As Weasley's face reddened, Granger's hand rested on his shoulder and said, 'It's good you've found the person you love, Malfoy…'

'That's enough, Mudblood,' Pansy said strictly, 'your voice is giving me a headache.'

'Hermione,' Potter said, 'what do you mean? Slytherins don't think of anyone but themselves,' he looked at me, 'That's the difference between us.'

'At least,' I whispered, a competitive air floating around us, **'I** can take care of the people I love - get it, Potter? _That's_ the difference between us.'

With that, I turned and walked out of the Great Hall and into the garden. Immediately, Pansy flew out of my arms and jumped up and down.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' she cried, 'This is beautiful,' she held up her right hand to the sunlight. The ring was one of pure gold, studded with specifically cut, square diamonds all around it.

'Pansy,' I said,' I know, it's beautiful. But,' I said as she calmed down, 'you haven't even seen it all.'

'What?' she said confused, 'What else it there to see?'

I took her hand as she took off the ring. 'Read the inside.'

Squinting at the cursive written in the gold, she read:

The ring so worn as you behold,

So thin, so pale, is yet of gold.

Pure as diamond, it is to prove,

It's you, I can't afford to loose.

'Thank you,' she said slowly, blue eyes gazing at me.

'Now, don't you ever take this off, ever again,' I told her, slipping the finger onto her hand again.

'But,' she whined, 'Draco, what if I want to wear different rings,' she explained, 'for different occasions?'

'Then,' I said, smirk in place, 'you'll have to wear more than one ring, won't you?'

With dawning realization, she smirked as well, 'Of course, Dracky…'

'No, Dracky,' I ordered strictly.

'Oh, but **I** am your betrothed,' she recited, 'so I can call you whatever I'd like, unless you'd want the marriage messed up.'

'Like you would do that,' I challenged playfully, 'It's practically asking Nott's hand in marriage.'

Pansy wrinkled her nose, 'Never mind, blonde hair is much more attractive.'

'I know.'

'Pansy, class starts in five minutes. Do hurry,' I called into the Girl's Dorms, a month later.

I never knew how long it took for women to dress.

'Coming, Draco,' she replied, strolling out. She was talking with a few Slytherin girls who were practically surrounding her. 'Of course, it's real gold! And African diamond, all the way from Angola…'

'Your'e so lucky, Pansy,' said one of the girls.

'I know,' she said, then slung her arm in mine.

'Finally,' I said, exiting as soon as possible, 'Now how are we going to get to Potions in time?'

'We're not going to run, are we?' she asked, patting her hair, 'It took me forever to get my hair this way.'

'No, Malfoy's don't run,' I said, pulling back a curtain across of a rather annoying portrait, and opening a small door. 'We simply use intelligence unknown to others to get what we want.'

Entering the dark room, Pansy whispered, 'Secret passageways? Very nice.'

'Yes, I know, now come on.' Racing through the long passage, we both heard the sounds of footsteps and clattering plates. A bit farther on were a few stairs. Pansy climbed them very slowly, sure she was going to trip. 'Come on, Pansy,' I whispered.

'No,' she whispered back in darkness, 'my clothes are not about to get wrecked.'

'That's it,' I said, picking her up. She shrieked as I ran through the dark hall, towards a wall, where a speck of light was coming out. 'Pansy,' I said, 'Quite, we're there.'

Pushing through a heavy curtain, I put Pansy down and looked around. Good, we made it. I was about to walk through Professor Chyssandra's door, when Pansy pulled at me.

'Let me straighten you up,' she said. Her fingers started immediately combing my hair, brushing strands out of my face. She dusted off a bit of my clothes and took my arm. 'Ok, now we're ready.'

As we walked inside, I told her quietly, 'You know, you can be quite annoying sometimes.' She looked at me with a smirk,

'My annoyance saved you the embarrassment of entering class with messy hair and dusty clothes.'

'And,' I quoted, 'It saved you the embarrassment of having your fiancé enter class with messy hair and dusty clothes.'

'Yes, I suppose,' she said, sitting down.

Whilst we were setting up a few ingredients, Chyssandra walked into the room, holding her now very pregnant middle. During the last month, we were going through a series of potions and even various potion makers. Though Snape is a brilliant teacher – at least in my opinion – everyone was passing with great grades with Chyssandra.

'No,' she said, looking at our ingredients, 'You can put that away. Since this is your last Potions class before Christmas Break, we'll just review.'

With a quick charm, I put both Pansy's and my things away. Granger was taking out a long parchment and dipping her quill in ink, when Chyssandra said, 'You won't even need that, Ms. Granger. We're going outside.'

'Will we be dismissed from there? Professor.' Pansy asked.

'You will, Ms. Parkinson,' said Chyssandra, 'or should I say Mrs. Malfoy?'

Pansy smiled at me and said, 'I'd prefer the latter.'

On the Quidditch Pitch, everyone dropped their bags on the stands – as the grass was covered with snow - and stood before Chyssandra. 'Alright, this review will be slightly like a game.'

The Gryffindors smiled and even I was pleased. Maybe, this would be enjoyable. I had never played and reviewed at the same time.

'First of all, we will split the class into two teams,' Somehow, an imaginary line had split right through the Slytherins and Gryffindors in the class. 'No,' said Chyssandra, 'the teams will be mixed.'

As a sigh rippled through the group, she continued, 'I will be the judge and teacher in this game. One student will come from Team A and I will tell them the name of one of the potions you all have completed this term. The student must act it out, without his or her wand and without words. If the other students from Team A guess the name of the potion, Team A gets a point. However, if Team B guesses after the thirty second time limit, Team B get the point and turn. Does everyone understand?'

A few nods and excited shouts answered. 'Now, teams,' she said, 'I won't pick, you will. – However, I pick team captains. Mr. Weasley. And…' she looked around, 'Ms. Patil.'

Weasley and Parvati walked out onto the field in front of us. After flipping a knut, Weasley called, 'Hermione! Sorry, Harry, she's smarter.'

'Wait, can I say something!' shouted Pansy beside me. 'If anyone picks me, they pick Draco, too, alright? We're a package.'

'I suppose that's alright, Mrs. Malfoy; Do you agree, Mr. Malfoy?' said Chyssandra.

'Yes, that would be fine,' I said.

'Harry,' said Parvati.

'Argh, fine… Seamus,' said Weasley.

'Um… Dean,' said Parvati, as he joined Potter and her on the field.

'Neville,' said Weasley quickly, taking the last Gryffindor.

The Gryffindors on Parvati's team, looked at the Slytherins, then turned their backs and slid into a deep conversation.

From what I heard, the conversation went something like this, 'How about… NO… well, he's better than… Ya. But, no… I suppose… No, I disagree!... Shut up!... Would you rather… NO… they could… smart… Hermione would…. Fine… Alright, we're done,' said Parvati, ignoring the deep look of hatred from Harry.

'The Malfoys.'

Getting up, I told Pansy, 'Don't you like the sound of that ''The Malfoys"?'

'Absolutely, dear. But, I don't like the sound of us being paired with Gryffindors.'

'Some Dumbledore trick – they want all the houses to unite.'

'Great, now I have to greet two Malfoys? One was enough.'

I turned to face the offending voice, 'Potter.'

'Malfoy,' he replied.

'Too bad I can't greet two Potter's. One's missing.' I stepped closer, 'So, ever going to find her, Potter? Do you admit it, that she's gone. _Forever_.' The others had left to pick who would be on the team.

'Shut it, Malfoy,' he said, obviously high strung.

'How could you pick a Lovegood, Potter?' I asked, genuinely curious, 'You should have known she was the type to go wandering.'

'Why do you care?' he said sharply, looking me in the eye, 'You have _that_,' he nodded towards where Pansy was talking to Millicent.

Then, a whistle blew and I realized that the teams had been made. We were Team B and had just added two girls and Zambini.

'Ok, I want one member from Team A to come so I can tell them their potion.'

Granger walked towards Chyssandra, who whispered something in her ear. Granger straightened, obviously familiar with the potion, and handed Chyssandra her wand. Walking between the groups she stopped then held out both her hands. Then she brought one up and one down, then vice versa. For a second, I thought that Granger had finally gone crackers, but then, I realized, she was balancing weights.

Alright, what balancing potions had we done? There's Equilibrium- **Now** **what is Granger doing?**

It looks like she's trying to be a chicken.

She's definitely gone crackers.

Sudden realization hit me. The potion was Symbilance. We had used it on two chickens to get them to weigh the exact same amount.

'Pansy,' I whispered, turning towards the group, 'The potion is Symbilance. Remember, how we experimented with chickens?'

'You're right,' she whispered back. 'Hey Blaise,' she called, attracting the attention of the others on our team.

'Did you get it?' said Parvati.

'They have ten more seconds to guess,' said Finnegan, pointing towards Team A, 'then we can guess.'

'You sure about this, Malfoy?' asked Potter, eyebrows lowered.

'We'll just see, won't we?' I said with a smirk, our eyes locking.

'Is it Equilibrium?' shouted Weasley.

'No. Sorry, time is up,' said Chyssandra, 'Good show, Ms. Granger. Does Team B have an answer?'

'Are you sure, Malfoy? You're not just trying to make us look bad, are you?' Potter whispered urgently.

Annoyed at being asked twice, the words blurted out from my mouth, 'You can trust me, Potter.' Immediately, my brain rang with alarm- how could I say that?

He puffed, 'You?'

'Who else?' I asked, not really knowing what else to say. Raising my voice, I answered, 'The _correct_ answer is Symbilance, Professor.'

'Correct,' Chyssandra smiled brightly.

Class ended an hour later and Pansy and I walked towards the Great Hall for lunch, discussing our win. We were still talking about Longbottom's pathetic attempt at acting when my owl came with a letter from home. Sitting at the long Slytherin table, I started pulling back the Malfoy crest when Pansy tried to take the letter from me.

'No,' I said, 'When we're married you can look at the letters.'

'Oh, fine,' she said, faking hurt, 'I'm _just_ a loved fiancé.'

'Class is over,' I reminded her, 'stop acting. I can see right through it, I've known you since we were kids.' I folded open the letter and read quickly. No charms, or spells… this must be an average letter, I thought.

'Does the loved fiancé even get to know what is in the letter,' Pansy asked after I had finished reading it and put it away.

'Indeed, she does, as the letter talks of her,' I hinted, smirking as her curiosity grew.

'So what does the letter say, my love,' Pansy asked anxiously.

'Oh, it only says that our real engagement party is to be Christmas Eve.'

**5 seconds later…**

'Pansy, SHUT UP!'

'Oh my god! Oh my god! Like, we are so having a party! Tonight!'

'Pansy…'

'Blaise, you're invited! Millicent, you too. Hey, ladies,' she called across the

table.

'What Pansy?' one with black hair answered coolly out of the group of ten.

'Lillian, tell all the girls that we're having a party in –'

'Pansy!'

'What, Draco?' she asked, slightly angry about my interruption.

'Quiet, we don't want the teacher's to hear, do we?' I said slyly.

'Of course, not,' she replied, smirking. 'Why, what a smart fiancé I have.'

'And what a lovely one I have,' I said, earning a quick kiss.

'Pansy, did you want to tell us something?' asked Lillian.

'Yes,' said Pansy, 'tell the girls we're having a party in the Slytherin seventh year dorms, tonight. Can you come?'

'You can bet on it,' said Lillian, a grin replacing her cool composure, as she quickly said the news to her friends.

'Vincent, Greg… Theodore,' I said, 'you guys are invited. Remember, you can bring whoever you like, but,' I stressed this point, 'Pansy is mine. Make sure everyone knows, no one but **I** can dance with her.'

'Sure,' said Vincent, nonchalantly, 'but we can bring whoever – except lower years, right?'

'Right,' I said, then fell back to eating. Now, I thought, what do I wear?

'I'll wear green, not red!'

'Come on, this is a _Christmas Party_, Draco. You know, we should wear _Christmas_ _colors_!' Pansy explained to me as though a five year old.

'You know, I only tolerate you because you are my 'loved fiance', so don't push it.'

'Come on, Narcissa had this made by …

'painters from Japan, I know,' I exclaimed.

'Really,' Pansy said, impressed, 'I didn't know they could actually paint on the clothing.'

'Dear,' I reminded her, as she walked in and out of my closet, 'they were wizards, you know, with magic.'

She walked out of the closet, twirling her wand, 'I know what magic is, want to check?'

'No, actually,' I said, regretting what I had said. Pansy had defense magic drilled into her ever since she was old enough to hold a wand. Every pureblood girl was an expert in it. The father's made sure of that. 'Fine, I'll wear it, though I don't see why you bother so much,' I said, taking off my shirt.

'I love you too, darling,' she said, walking out of the room to get dressed, herself.

In truth, the outfit wasn't so bad. The shirt was a button up, with an intricate painting of red dragons blowing fire over a village. The pant, however was a different matter – I would never wear that green disaster. I picked up a pair of black pants and decided they would match. Fully dressed, I looked in the long mirror and nodded. I looked good.

'You look fine, dear,' said the squeaky voice of the mirror, 'though Miss Malfoy will be upset that you aren't wearing the pants.'

'See if I care,' I replied, walking away.

'I know you do, dear.'

**Author's Note**: sigh They were SO meant for each other… I love Dracky-poo, but, he … just fits better with her.


	9. Merry Christmas

Disclaimer: I own nothing of J.K. Rowling's. That's a fact!

Ch. 8 Merry Christmas

'Draco, Welcome Home.'

Mother always made every statement so elegant.

'It's fine to be home again,' I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around her in a brief hug.

After a kiss on the forehead and signaling the house elves to take care of the luggage, she brought me into the living room. 'So,' she asked, the tips of her lips curving upwards, 'When do I meet, Miss Malfoy?'

'Not sure, really,' I said, nonchalantly, 'Do you have anything in mind?' I asked, though I knew she had probably _already_ invited everyone to a Christmas Eve party, bought her dress, made new wards on the house, and had the Japanese designers waiting in the second living room.

'Indeed,' she said, grin evolving into a smile. 'There will be a party on Christmas Eve, a proper engagement. You will be introduced to a bit more of the Parkinson's. I've put up wards on the house, so your father will be attending,' she seemed very proud of herself, 'Now, enter the washroom then attend the Japanese designers. Chao is waiting in the second living room,' Mother got up.

Just one thing left.

'Oh, and would you like to see my new dress?'

Score.

'Of course, I would, Mother,' I said, getting up as well. 'Though I doubt it will be any good.'

Smile now completely evaporated, she asked with dry lips, 'Do you doubt your mother's taste, Draconis?'

'I just meant that anything you wear, Mother,' I said smoothly, and with not a little bit of slyness, 'is not so beautiful as to complement the radiance you never fail to show.'

'Why thank you, son,' she said, obviously pleased. 'Don't forget, Chao is waiting.'

Walking to the bathroom, I flipped on the lights and left the door open. Quickly, I rinsed my face and thoroughly scrubbed my hands. Checking my hair, I turned swiftly and walked to the second living room.

'Malfoy Junior,' came the heavy accent, 'We have been missing you so.'

'Of course, Chao,' I replied, looking over to the other in the room.

'Oh,' Chao quickly realized where I was looking, 'This is my son, Huan,' he said, rapidly elbowing his son in the ribs.

'Sir Malfoy,' said the teenage boy, head bowed, hands together.

'Huan,' I bowed my head lightly in respect.

'So,' said Chao excitedly, 'I heard news, lots of good news in Japan, about you!' About to reply, myself, he continued, 'Getting engaged, Malfoy Junior, at such a young age! Why the girl must be unique for you to pop the question.'

'I was simply ready, Chao,' I rushed my words, in fear of being interrupted again.

'Always ready for everythings, Malfoy Junior,' he said, snaking out a role of measuring tape. 'Now, have you been gaining any weight?'

'Not, that I'm aware of,' I said, as the tape measured the broadness of my shoulders.

'Oh, more muscle, Malfoy Junior, always more! Why working so hard?' he pondered.

'Been practicing for a match against Gryffindor, actually,' I replied more to myself. 'Two thirty, Saturday, January the 7th.

'Yes, yes…' he said, looking at the measurements. 'So, what colors have you been thinking of? NO, don't say, 'he put up a hand, 'No greens this time. They simply do not suit you. Too bad your uniform is so illy picked!'

'It does depend on your house, Chao,' I found myself bothering to explain.

'House, mouse.' Horrible joke, 'My house is made of mud! Isn't that right, Huan?' Chao must have caught the horrified expression on my face, for he quickly said, 'Ha Ha, Joking. Joking.'

'Right.'

'How about the dragons shirt? Did it agree with you?' For once, he was actually quiet, waiting for my answer.

'Yes, it agreed with me, and Pansy…'

'You speak of the lucky lady!' Quiet equals gone. 'Oh, how nice of you to think of others, Malfoy Junior.' OH, that was nice. 'But, no worries, Malfoy Junior, I have already planned out your outfit with Madam Malfoy.'

But, of course. Mother's never one to sit around.

'Alright then,' I said, backing off, 'I think I might go.'

'No, but I must explain the details with you. You see, it has a…'

I don't think he'll realize if I just walk away right now.

Backing off… very slowly.

Almost to the hall…

'MALFOY JUNIOR!'

Argh, they caught me.

'But? Malfoy Junior, come back.'

'No, actually, Mother's calling.' I looked into the hall, and by luck spotted a

house elf. 'My house elf would like to offer you more tea.'

With food to distract them, I made my way up to Mother's room.

With a knock, I entered. 'They just won't stop talking, will they?'

'Actually it's just Chao. His son's rather quiet,' she replied from her dresser.

'Ya –'

'No, _yes_,' she emphasized. 'What did I say about that slang?'

'Ya Moth-'

'_Yes_ Mother,' she emphasized again.

'Yes Mother,' I repeated. Goodness, I'm getting married and still listening to my mother. But, I didn't really mind. I _was_ born with manners, after all.

'Anyways, I'm sure Chao speaks enough for the both of them,' I finally got to say.

'Indeed,' she looked back towards her mirror. Waiting.

'Can I see your dress?' I asked.

'Of course,' she said with a great smile, getting up. She pulled back the

curtains and showed me the outfit hung on a human like frame.

Simply put, it was beautiful.

The red corset-like top showed the gold trimming beneath, and pale gold sleeves, hanging behind the figures back like a cape. The pale white bottom was covered with a heavy red cloth, pulled back with gold, swirled with designs. More gold was sewn under the white bottom of the dress.

A pair of red and white shoes with a gold buckle lay neatly beneath.

My eyes shifted to the left, to look at the same colors on a different outfit for a man.

'I also got one made for your father,' Narcissa said, adjusting the hanging of

the robes. She wrung her hands, her only sign of worry.

'He'll come,' I reassured her. Lightening the mood, I joked, 'I thought Pansy and I were getting engaged. Seems like you two are doing it again, though. Seriously, this outfit will rival the brides'. And Mother,' I looked her in the eyes, 'You know, it's rude to be prettier than the bride.'

She smiled, appreciating the complement.

I only joked with my mother, always to see her smile. I loved to see her smile, more than anyone else. Mother was the one who cried when I first left her to go to Hogwarts. She was the one who bought me my owl, and sent me daily sweets for breakfast. She encouraged me, she made me see, that I could be the best. That I was the best. If there was one person I loved in the world, it would be Narcissa.

My Mother.

My beautiful Narcissa.

Always. Forever. Mine. – and Father's.

Now, where's lunch?

'So, I have to enter with Pansy?'

'It's always accustomed that she come to you, Draco.'

'Do I get to see her, before she comes to me?'

'No, her father will bring her to you,' said Mother, straightening my tie –

though I'm sure it's straight - , 'Meanwhile, stay with Lucius. He'll be sitting with his brother's. Try not to talk to Uncle Jonath-'

'What? Mother, he never treated me badly in France -'

'Do not interrupt, Draconis,' she said, strictly, 'He's brought his French prostitutes –'

'He said he only had a girlfriend.'

'What did I say about interrupting?' She looked me squarely in the eye, 'Miss Malfoy and the Parkinson's will be very much offended if you touch, dance, or look at any other women. Understand?' She pushed back the curls from beside her face.

'Yes, Mother,' I said. I don't get to look at any girls until Pansy comes? God, that was going to be hard. Looking in the mirror, I found that I agreed with the dark shades of blue in my robes. The engagement was planned in the colors silver and blue, complement of Pansy's eyes.

Looking in the mirror, I found myself standing a little straighter. Feeling a little older. And much prouder of who I was.

Mother must have realized, 'Make us proud, Draconis. Let us go make our entrance, your father and the guests are waiting.'

Quickly, she walked down the hallway, where she would enter from the other side of the show staircase. Getting to my end, I held my breath.

Here it goes.

I stepped out and looked around, in front, and below me. There already was a crowd of people scattered amongst many tables and chairs downstairs. Head high and back straight, I walked smoothly down the stairs. The chattering was soon quieted to dull murmurs as the staircases finally met and I saw Mother.

But, she had changed. She was a Queen.

Her hand came up so graciously, as I took it and kissed it. She stood so elegantly as she put her arm in mine. Like a single deer in a forest, she gazed down upon everyone. And all anyone else could do was stare back at her. And all they could see was the beauty that she was.

My beauty.

We seemed to glide down the remaining few steps of the stairs, and I saw my father in the first group of people. Nearing the fifth to last step, he came up and took my Mother's hand. He kissed it, then nodded to me.

As I followed him, I looked around at the design of the 'Great Dining' room in our house. That had always been our name for it. Circular tables seating twelve were scattered around the room, which was connected to another. Off to the side, Mother had the restrooms hallway lighted up, the curtains on the doorway, pulled open. All the curtains in the room were white and blue, very different from our usual gold, emerald, and ruby. The table cloths were all white silk - which I knew was expensive alone – with embroidery of the lightest blue. As I passed by a group of women- which I tried not to look at- I heard them discussing,

'Definitely Indian, ' said the larger one.

'It's been worked by hand,' said a girl who was obviously her daughter.

'Of course, we Malfoys never buy anything but hand stitched.'

Oh, so they're related to me.

Must ask Mother how they are related to us. Probably, Father's side.

As I passed by another group, I witnessed through the soft light that they all had pitch black hair. Hmm, must be the Black's – or the Lestrange's. Must ask Mother that, too.

No, actually they are the Black's. I looked at the little symbol, one of the women was wearing on her dress, a diamond, with the word 'Black' signed in cursive on it. Every child born a Black had to learn how to write their name in that exact handwriting. Quite difficult, really.

My father stopped at a table, and motioned for me to sit down. With practiced grace, I descended into my seat, careful not to wrinkle any of my clothes. When all niceties were taken care of, I relaxed in my chair.

Bored, I looked at the faces around the table. But, of course, my father's company. Either rich 'businessmen' or fellow 'followers'. I knew him, and him…and that gentleman. Does he always wear black? Oh, look - Uncle John!

Silver eyes seemed to catch mine. Instantly lighting up, he grinned and stood to sit near me.

'Draco,' he exclaimed, French accent slightly noticeable. Patting my back, he asked, 'How are you?'

'Fine, thank you,' I said, politely, casting a swift glance around. Mother was no where in sight, thank goodness. 'How is Juenesse?' I asked, thinking of the woman my mother hated.

'Oh, she's fine,' he said, mentioning that she was off talking to some other women. 'So, now, tell me the real news,' he raised his eyebrows, 'Why haven't you told

me of this Miss Pansy Parkinson at all?'

John, Jonathon Malfoy, was my father's younger brother. Unlike my father's long face, his was broader and his eyes always held a lively spark. Rather than live in England, he moved to live on the coasts of France, and was a rich business dealer. I suppose 'getting our way' is a family trait. John could sell a few lousy potion ingredients for a pot of gold.

'I've been busy, John. No time to post,' I said, 'Wasn't even very sure she was the one, until past Halloween.'

'I'll take the second excuse,' he said, strands of blonde hair falling in front of his eyes, 'But, the first is the worst I've ever heard. You do have a floo system.'

'Hey,' I said, defensively, 'You think I prefer this place to your villa?'

'I know,' he said, 'Come on, cool it, Draco. This girl's really pulling your strings, isn't she? How much does she mean to you?'

I took a deep breathe, 'Sorry, for –'

'No need to apologize,' he said, shaking his two-inch hair about.

I apologized to none but family. This mattered.

'No, I am sorry, I didn't need to get defensive, not with you. Not with family.'

'Oh,' John held his heart dramatically, 'I'm touched.'

'Right, John,' I said, failing to hide a smile, 'Get serious.'

'But, I am,' he looked at me, with as serious an expression he could summon,

'do believe me. I swear by, by your lady, Draco, that I am most serious.'

I don't think I've snorted, since I was five.

'Let's ditch these guys,' he said, looking around the table, 'and look for some ladies. You know, get accustomed with the Parkinson's.'

'John,' I reminded him, 'You have a girlfriend, and I'm getting engaged.'

'It's not like we're going to _do_ anything,' he said, grinning, 'you were the one thinking that way.'

'Right.' For a minute, I sat and looked around the table. Merlin, it was boring. 'Let's go,' I whispered. With a nod to everyone, I left.

'To tell you the truth,' I said, walking with John on my right, 'I haven't seen too many ladies, or my friends at all.'

'That's because,' he explained, meanwhile winking at someone to his right, 'You followed Lucius into the wrong crowd. I was here before I came to see you come down the stairs.' He stopped in the large room of the second and third living room, which looked much more elegant since the last time I was in here.

John must have realized my expression, for he commented, 'Your mother

always had the best taste in design.'

I looked at John and raised my eyebrows, regally. This was yet another clue I had learned of my Uncle's fondness for my mother. I knew my mother was John's age – they attended Hogwarts together. Though there were rumors of something happening between them, Mother completely denied it, and even showed her complete animosity towards John. Later, she married Father.

However, I like to know all the details.

And, a Malfoy gets what he wants.

So, from the house elves, I learned that John had talked to Senior Malfoy

about marriage to Narcissa. But, strict to tradition, Senior Malfoy wouldn't have it. The older son must marry first. And, as Narcissa was a perfect bride, of decent age, background, and money, he immediately started setting up.

Yet, when John learned that Senior Malfoy was setting up the marriage with Narcissa, he was overjoyed, as he thought it was his own marriage to her. Only weeks before the engagement, did he discover that his brother was the one getting married.

Distraught, he immediately left the country. Finding job opportunity in Paris, he settled – though it was known that he had never really gotten over Narcissa.

'Here are the Parkinson's,' John introduced, acting just a little ecstatic.

'I shouldn't be talking to women, John-'

'We're not picking anyone up,' he said, though he seemed to warm to the idea very quickly, 'Just introducing the groom to all the beautiful women in the room.'

'Hello, might I introduce the groom of this wedding, my niece, Draconis Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy,' John said, making sure his French accent was very audible.

After murmurs of congratulations and polite approval, one young lady with similar blonde hair came out to shake my hand, 'A perfect match, Draconis,' she commented.

'Yet not so perfect as your beauty,' John said, taking hold of her hand, 'Do I have the pleasure of knowing this beauties name?'

A light blush shading her delicate features, the woman answered, 'Pearl Parkinson, older cousin of Pansy.'

'Indeed? Miss Parkinson, would you like to join me for a drink?-'

'Actually,' a man slightly older than I, cut in, 'That's already been taken care of.'

'My husband, Christopher Nott,' Pearl introduced, 'this is the groom, Draconis Malfoy,' as he shook my hand, she continued, 'and…'

'Jonathon Malfoy,' John said, a bit resigned.

'A pleasure meeting you, Christopher,' I said, wanting to stop any further humiliation.

'Certainly,' said the man, before questioning his fine wife.

Walking away, I commented, 'I hope that's not how you got Juenesse.'

'Shut up. How was I supposed to know that?'

'You only attended her wedding last year.'

Grinning, I scanned the room for friends. Abruptly, I felt a familiar punch on my back. 'Vincent, Gregory!' I said, greeting them both, as John left to find Juenesse. 'Where's everyone else?'

As they pointed to a group of Slytherin guys, I asked more specifically, 'Where's the girls?'

'Haven't come, yet,' commented Nott.

'I think they're coming in with Pansy,' Blaise continued. 'So, today's the big day, right? Nervous?'

'I don't get nervous,' I lied, brilliantly. 'Mother prepared everything, things will be fine.'

Yet, as the lights suddenly dulled even more and the crowd hushed, I felt extremely nervous. This was it.

I'm getting engaged.

As I walked up the slight elevation in steps to where two seats were centered in the front of the room. Turning around, I found myself capturing a full view of the room. The room I was getting engaged in.

Then, the path of white rose petals before me was lit with candles and soft lights. Two figures walked down that path. So slowly, I saw a stocky figure arm in arm with a slim one walk towards me. Sir William Parkinson and… Pansy.

Her beauty was stunning.

She was like the rising sun. Her walk carried the perfection of grace. Her gown was a gorgeous pale blue with simple dark blue designs. The white flowers she carried were undoubtedly rare, but seemed so right draped over the front of her dress. Her crown of blonde hair was pulled back, sure not to cover up the calm in her eyes.

I took a step down as her father put her hand in mine, and I pulled her beside me. Refraining from staring too long at her, I turned away and saw a younger girl bring up a pillow with a jewelry box on it.

As it neared me, the jewelry box opened, magically. I took out the pearl necklace and steadily placed it around her neck. Next I took out the matching dangling earrings, and managed to whisper her beauty in her ear as I slipped them on. Last, I took out the ring. I had to admit, Mother did have absolutely brilliant taste, I thought, as I saw it match with the diamond ring I had given her earlier.

Finally, I let the little girl walk away. Taking a deep breath to calm my heart, I picked up Pansy's right hand and kissed it softly. When we get married, I'll be kissing her left. Immediately, the room burst into applause.

Glancing at Pansy nervously, I led her into the middle of the floor cleared for dancing. As a familiar band started to play, we danced alone on the floor. The older wizards sat back down on the tables, and the young couples waited for the song to finish.

The first dance was strictly for us.

Looking around at the wizards around us, I saw Nott look at Pansy in a way that forced me to hold her a little tighter. 'You look beautiful, Pansy,' I whispered in her ear.

'Thank you, Draco,' she said. 'And the dark blue is rather nice on you as well.'

'I missed you,' I said, circling her around.

'I love you.'

I hope it wasn't too daring to kiss her lightly just then.

It seemed that too quickly, our song was over and Mother came out to dance with Father. Sir William danced with Madam Parkinson. John and Juenesse kept a bit of the floor to themselves, as well as many other couples – including Pearl and Christopher- who kept shooting untrustworthy glances at John.

Dance after that, Sir William pardoned to dance with his daughter and I danced with Mother. It was then that I heard the words that will always be engraved into my brain,

'You have made me so very proud, Draconis. Even when you've failed, I am proud. I will always be proud of you. No matter what you do, you are my son. My light. My love. My Draco. Forever.'

'I love you, Mother.'

She kissed my forehead, then was about to say something when she shut her mouth abruptly.

'Jonathon,' she greeted, coldly.

'My dear Narcissa,' he said with a smile, which seemed to try – and fail, miserably – to please her. 'Draco, could I have the rest of this dance?'

'Of course,' I said, avoiding my mother's eyes, 'I'll go find Pansy.'

As I left, I saw John trying to strike up some conversation with my mother. It was about as successful as lighting a match against a smooth piece of glass.

I walked towards the counters to grab two glasses of champagne, and saw my father and Sir William chatting merrily. I walked into the courtyard, looking for Pansy and saw her staring out at the garden.

'We'll be getting married here, this summer,' she said, as I stood beside her.

'When the weather is a bit warmer,' I commented.

'We'll be married.'

'And we'll live happily ever after.'

Her punches never hurt, anyway.

Author's Note: Sorry this took a while, but it's long- So there! Haha, I just love them as a couple, don't you? Ok, next chapter, they'll be back at school, and everything will seem fine. You know, the quiet before the storm… ok, won't give anymore away!


	10. Slytherin vs Gryffindor

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Joe's. She's the genius behind all of this.

Ch. 9 Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor

'Open your textbooks to page 534.'

So much for a welcome back.

Pansy sighed beside me as she flipped open her book. I threw an arm over her shoulder, warding off a glance from Nott in the row before us.

When Christmas was over… presents and all, we returned to Hogwarts. We returned to this:

'Before you,' Snape's sharp voice explained, 'are fifteen pages of rigorous questions in all the techniques of the Dark Arts,' I heard Weasley whimper pathetically, 'However, they will not be assigned for homework,'

a gasp of joy,

'if,'

another whine,

' you do exactly as I say.'

Suddenly, white writing started to appear on the blackboard beyond the dueling ring.

"_If left without a wand, how do you defend yourself?"_

Hmmm… interesting, I thought as Pansy glanced up at me. Gregory started guffawing once he finished reading the board, then he suddenly stopped.

'But, I thought Snape doesn't tell jokes.'

Vincent glared, then added, 'Wonder which Gryffindor he'll pick.'

'Potter.'

But, of course, the Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die.

'Quickly Potter, we don't have all day,' Snape snapped. Shuffling a bit, Potter walked to the front of the class. Out stretching his hand, Snape asked, 'Wand.'

'I left it on my desk,' Potter stated quickly.

'Wand,' Snape repeated.

Digging deep in a shirt pocket, Potter slowly took out his wand. Happily, Snape grabbed it and pocketed it. Turning, he stopped suddenly. He turned back around to face Potter and demanded, 'The other one.'

Sighing in defeat, Potter took out the second wand from his sleeve.

'Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley for assisting Mr. Potter with your wand. And, ten more points from Gryffindor, for lying, Potter.' Smug, Snape locked both wands in his desk drawers where a clatter of many more wands were seen.

This was going to be a fun lesson, after all.

'Potter, try to stay conscious and uninjured for as long as possible.'

It was an honor to snicker loudly for as long as possible with my fellow Slytherins.

Then, Snape attacked. And the action began. First, he aimed a well placed shocking spell, sending Potter flying four feet.

'Wait!' came a shriek from the Mudblood. Professor Snape stopped as Potter got up stiffly.

'What is the point of this exercise, Professor Snape?'

Genuinely smiling – even though it was a rather evil one – Snape answered, 'Mr. Potter, here, will answer that question at the end of the lesson.'

Back on his feet, Potter had to duck, jump, and dodge several quick curses, soon leaving him out of breath. A few minutes later, he was on his back again.

'Professor,' Granger called again, as the Weasel stood to look at his friend, 'Surely, if we were ever left without a wand, we'd have something else?'

'No, not in this situation,' said Snape, 'and if you'd care to interrupt again, ten points will be taken from Gryffindor.' However, turning, Snape – and most of the class – was rather surprised. Potter was no longer before him.

Silence was issued throughout the room. Where was Potter? Quickly skimming the room, Pansy tugged at my sleeve as a feather moved on Snape's desk. How she managed to spot that, I'll never know.

Intrigued, I watched the slight breeze make the feather sway, when a hand suddenly grabbed at the quill. As the quill disappeared underneath the desk, I stood, 'Professor, your desk!'

Turning, Snape saw his whole pot of quills and other materials disappear beneath the desk. 'Potter!' he shouted, 'Get your hands off my things!'

In a word, Snape shot a spell at his desk. The yellow flash of light quickly zoomed across the room. Yet, to everyone's surprise it was deflected by a red ray of light.

Getting up, Potter revealed the wand in his right hand. 'The answer to that question,' Potter stated, pointing to the board where Snape's previous question _If left without a wand how do you defend yourself_ was still written, he answered, 'is to get a wand.'

Surprisingly, Snape put down his wand. 'Ms. Granger,' he asked, begrudgingly, 'how did I answer your first question at the beginning of the lesson?'

'You said that Harry would answer your question _at the end of the lesson_,' she said, a dawning look of happiness on her face.

With an angry look and turn of his head, Snape said,

'Class Dismissed.'

I stretched my stiff back as I stood in the Slytherin shed below the Quidditch stands. Long fingers gripping the smooth wood of my broom, I listened to the commotion of the crowd above in the dark shed. This is it, I thought, Slytherin's first match against Gryffindor. _He_ had to win.

'This is our first match,' I called out to my team, over my shoulder. 'We have to win.'

The chaser, Charles, mumbled, 'You say that before every game.'

'Ya,' I said, affronted, 'But, this time I mean it. All of you have to work your hardest.'

'Well, it would help if you actually caught the snitch,' said Nott, saucily.

'You think I haven't been thinking about that for the past week?' I snapped, not willing to take any more cheeks from my team mates.

'Sorry,' Nott mumbled, voice low.

'Don't worry about it,' I said, trying to pull the team together, 'but I need some help out there. You,' I looked back at Nott, 'score some goals past that lousy excuse for a Keeper. Brian, you'd make a better Keeper any day.

'And Vincent, Gregory, you two are beaters. Beat!'

'Does that mean we can bend a few rules?' asked Will, the last chaser, hopefully.

'Bend?' I put on a show of thought, 'Break them! There are no rules in this game! In this game, Gryffindor is going down!'

Snickering, I led the Slytherin team speeding out onto the pitch, a new speed about us. I glanced out amongst the crowds and saw the Slytherin stands shrieking their cheers. Rounding about the pitch, I turned to the middle to shake hands with the Gryffindor captain.

Looking Potter in the eye, I mocked, 'Ready to loose, Potter? I hear you have to get ready for these things, _mentally_.'

'Right, Malfoy,' he smiled, 'We'll loose, like every time, right?'

I gripped hands with scarhead, then flew up.

And the whistle blew.

Elevating myself to a safe height above the zooming players, I looked down to watch the first move of the game. A Gryffindor girl, chaser, had stolen the Quaffle and was off towards the Slytherin end. Only seconds later, Nott had knocked into her and viciously taken the Quaffle.

A roar of disapproval sounded from the Gryffindor stands. It gave me great pleasure to smirk as they unsuccessfully called for a foul.

My eyes shifted around the field. Still, no sign of the snitch.

Focusing on the game again, I saw Gregory hit a bludger strongly towards the younger chaser on the team, nearly knocking him off his broom.

'Hang on, Smith,' I head Potter call, looking anxiously towards his teammate.

'Yes, do hang on, you wouldn't want to fall, now would you?' I looked towards Potter, 'Teaching them to fall, are you, Potter?'

I received a look of disgust, before Potter looked down to continue watching the game.

Then, I saw it.

There was the snitch, a golden light glimmering by the Gryffindor goals. Fighting off the urge to fly straight towards it, I thought for a moment. In this position, I would never get it. Potter was closer to the Gryffindor end. Potter would surely get it.

And, we couldn't let that happen, now could we?

So, instead, I sped off towards the Slytherin goals at breakneck speed. Commotion from the crowd was immediately created. Before I knew it, Potter zipped behind me. I circled a goal post, angry to still find Potter keeping up. Testing his skill, I pulled a Wronski Feint and only pulled out from the dive, a few feet from the ground. Potter did so as well, though not a bit more clumsily.

Rising up above the Slytherin crowd, I smirked at Potter, who looked up angrily for the goose chase. Quickly, I spotted Pansy –obvious in the pink she was wearing – to distract Potter.

'Hey Potty!' came the loud squeal of her voice.

As inconspicuously as possible, I drifted off towards the Gryffindor end. Quickly scanning the skies for the golden glint of the snitch, I blessed my luck as I saw it but one hundred meters before me.

Forgetting all subtleties, I raced towards the gold. This was mine; there was no other chance to get it. And annoyingly enough, as though seeing me coming, the snitch turned from it's path and sped back towards the Gryffindor goals.

Breath quickening, I ducked below a series of players and followed as quickly as my broom would allow. Yet, the noise from the crowds, drew the attention of Potter, who was already following. Annoyed, I felt him coming up on my left sleeve.

'Nice cheat, Malfoy,' Potter breathed.

'About time, Potter,' I still managed to smirk, 'remember, no matter how much time you spend around her, she still wears my ring.'

'No worries, Malfoy,' said Potter, breathlessly, 'you keep Parkinson. Who else'd want her?'

Feeling an uncharacteristic growl in my throat, I replied, 'Just people smart enough to keep a woman.'

'Shut it, Malfoy,' said Potter, hotly, - much to my satisfaction - , 'Let me get this snitch,' he said, hand out.

'Too late, Potter, ' I said, hand out as well, 'it's already got my initials on it.'

Suddenly, the snitch took a sudden turn around the right goal hoop. Quickly adjusting my broom, I turned. Potter, only a little farther, put his hand down to adjust the slight bump that went through his broom.

I was so close to the snitch, I could see the intricate designs on the ball. The flutter of the wings. Throwing my second hand out, I strived to make my reach just a little more. As Potter, done adjusting, bumped into my left as he threw his hand out, I felt the smooth golden metal slide into my palm.

As though hanging on for life, my hand closed tightly around the Snitch. Breathlessly, I kept hold of the struggling ball.

Holding my hand up high, I heard the roars from the Slytherin stands, shrieking in ecstasy. All shouts of disapproval was unheard over the shrieks from Slytherin. In a daze, I kept my hand up, as I landed. Immediately surrounded by my teammates, I realized that I had actually caught the snitch.

With everyone jumping and shouting, Charles shouted, 'I always knew you could do it,' the lie was emphasized with a punch on the back. Then, in a sudden huff, I was being carried above the crowd on Gregory's shoulders.

My wide smirk, widened yet as I looked over to Gryffindor. Potter was walking towards the castle, shaking off disheartened fans.

Pansy, using her ways, was soon up on my level. Grinning, she hugged me to her and cried, 'You won! You won! Slytherin,' she announced, 'Party!'

Yep, things were definitely looking up for Slytherin, I thought looking at the crowd.

It never felt better to be a winner, I thought as my team laughed.

And as I looked at Pansy, I thought,

_It never felt better to be a Malfoy._

**Author's Note:** Ok, really sorry everyone. I know that took forever and it's even not that long. So, I have good and bad news.

Good: I'll update again _extremely _soon.

Bad: It's summer time, so I'm traveling.

Don't be too discouraged though, this story has been completely planned out and will surely end. So, you know when I get back, all you have to do is review smiles happily and then click the box next to 'Author Alert'. (Oh, and you have to be signed in!) That button emails you when I next update.

Well, have a nice summer and look forward to my next chapter!


	11. A Flap of Wings

Disclaimer: All of this brilliance is J K Rowlings. Hope to read the book.

_Ch.10 A Flap of Wings_

A few days later, I found the satisfaction of winning in Quidditch had yet to be worn away. Well, maybe it was how Pansy kept complementing me about it. Or how Potter frowned whenever I mentioned Quidditch. Who knows – the point is: I rock.

It was almost time for dinner. Entering the bathroom, I had a delightful talk with the mirror.

'Why Mr. Malfoy, aren't you looking splendid this evening!'

Washing my hands, I asked, 'Is that a new thing?' It was a very tactful way of asking for more compliments.

'No! No! Of course, not. It's just that you look especially happy this evening,' screeched the wide mirror. 'And I just couldn't help noticing how your smile suited you.'

'Yes, well, Pansy is going to talk over our wedding plans, if you must know,' I added, smirking lightly. If you told a mirror something, it would definitely tell _everyone_ about it.

'Really?' the mirror said, it's voice interested.

Blessing my intelligence, I replied, 'But, of course. We have to discuss whether the gold plates should be studded in diamonds and if the tables must have cloth of Chinese silk… It's quite a long and difficult process, really.'

Leaving the bathroom, I caught Pansy's eye and I escorted her over to the Great Hall.

'Why are you grinning like that?' she asked, eyes roaming my face. 'You'll scare a first year.'

'Oh nothing,' I said, 'What cloth are we going to put on our tables in the wed-'

'Finest Chinese silk,' she interrupted, 'Why do you ask?'

Grinning a bit more, I actually laughed and said, 'Oh nothing, nothing at all.'

A group of first years decided not to join dinner that night.

It was nearing Easter. Soon, I'd be home. The Parkinson's were inviting the family over as a pre-wedding celebration, I thought sitting up in bed, my potions book casually dropped to a side. Usually, I'd stay up alone, yet tonight, there was one less person sleeping.

Nott pulled back my curtains. 'You're awake, too,' he said.

'Yes,' I replied, keeping my tone casual, as I was not fully sure why he had assumed it.

'It seems only Vincent and Greg can sleep,' he said wearily, taking a seat beside me on my bed, 'It's really hard for everyone else though.'

'Yes,' I said, still without any comprehension, 'They could sleep through anything.'

There was a pause, then Nott said, 'I hope they succeed.' I didn't say anything,

hoping he would continue. The candlelight flickered, causing odd shadows on his face. 'The Dark Lord hates it when his followers don't fully accomplish everything on there missions.'

A dawning understanding came to me. There was a mission tonight.

Why did Nott know, and not me? I thought immediately, infuriated. Did Father not want me to know? Did I miss one of his letters? Was it intercepted? Does Pansy know?

'Where did they say they were going tonight?' I asked, faking a yawn.

Looking at Nott, I thought I saw his eyebrow rise. But, it might have been a shadow.

'They tell you these things, too?' he asked, slightly surprised. 'Well, of course, you're Senior Malfoy's son.' He continued, 'I think it's a ministry assignment. We know some of the old fool's gang will be there. We have to see what they're up to and take out Nymphadora – if it's safe, of course.'

Oh, well that's no fun, I thought. I thought something big was going on.

'Well, yes, we'll see what Dumbledore's up to,' I said, and yawned again. Glancing at my watch, I stated, 'It's eleven, should go to bed, long day tomorrow.'

'Yes,' Nott agreed, getting off my bed, 'tomorrow then.' He blew out the candle and I heard him crawl into his own bed.

Lying in bed, I left myself to thinking.

Why didn't I know about this?

According to Nott, "everybody" knew about this. Except me.

I waited a few minutes until I heard Nott's breathing steady, then climbed out of bed. I rushed up the stairs and out into the common room and sat on a chair, beside our only set of windows.

Angry, I tapped my foot on the ground. I couldn't possibly send an owl home, now. Father would be out, and Mother waiting. And Dumbledore probably just sitting there waiting to catch me sending a letter. Whether the Headmaster would or wouldn't read it, I'm not really sure – but how else does he _always_ know what's going on?

Opening a window, I felt a cold breeze hit my face.

He always knew what was going on. Abruptly, the words reminded me of Granger. And the Mudblood always knows everything, too. And the Weasels an idiot, I ranted, working myself up even more.

And Potter always gets everything!

I wonder if Potter knows what's going on?

Struck with a bright idea, I snatched a piece of parchment and quill from where someone left them by the fire.

Thinking carefully, I wrote, _'Can't sleep, Potter?_' Without signing, I cackled evilly, and folded the parchment. I got up. Should I call my owl, I thought, she's asleep in the owlerly. Deciding that I preferred not to skip up to the Owlerly in the dark of night, I looked around before transforming.

Suddenly very close to the floor, I flapped my wings that shakily carried me up to a table. It's been a while, I thought, since I last transformed. Knowing I looked exactly like my own owl, I grabbed the parchment in my claw and flew out of the open window.

Why does the Gryffindor tower have to be so high, I thought angrily as I kept flapping my wings up to the dimly lit tower. Encircling the tower, I stopped at a window, showing a colorful common room. Balancing on the ledge, I looked inside. There were a few figures on the far side of the room. Taking flight again, I landed at another window.

Yes, this was much closer. And, to my luck, right inside was the amazingly annoying trio. Potter and the Weasel were lounging over what looked like homework and Granger seemed to be correcting everything.

I tapped the window with my beak. _Tap. Tap. _

No one took notice. Angry, I tapped much harder. _Tap. Tap. TAP. TAP. TAP._

Weasley turned and got up to open the window. Flying inside, I hooted with indignation of being kept outside so long. I stood in the middle of the table, making quite a show of my beauty must I say, and took a long glance at each one of them. Slowly, I dropped the scroll of parchment on Potter's work.

'Who's owl is that?' asked Weasley, glancing at me with raised eyebrows.

'It's pretty,' cooed Granger, lifting her hand. Afraid she was going to pet me, I snapped my beak viciously at her. As I watched her draw back her hand in fright, I heard Potter say,

'It's Malfoy's.'

Was I really that obvious? I thought sarcastically.

'What'd he write?' asked Weasley.

Almost as though not sure himself, Potter showed the paper to Weasley then handed it to Granger.

'"Can't sleep, Potter?"' she read, putting down her quill, 'Well, it's definitely Malfoy.'

'Why'd he write that,' said Potter, 'you don't think he knows?'

Simultaneously, all three looked around the common room for anyone else listening.

I've just realized that owl's can't snort.

'Malfoy's dad is a Death Eater, of course he knows!' Weasley stated.

Potter replied, running a hand through his hair, 'Then why's he telling me that he knows?'

'Oh my god,' Granger said suddenly, 'If Malfoy knows, then his father knows, then Voldemort knows. They know what the Order's about to do; they're going to do something.'

'We have to warn someone,' said Weasley, immediately.

_OH great, I am in so much trouble. Where the hell did Granger get all her logic?_

Then, Potter said, 'Wait, you guys, come on. You're looking way too deep into this letter. All Malfoy wrote was, '_Can't sleep, Potter?'_ nothing more.'

_Thank Potter for his stupidity._

'Harry,' Weasley said, 'Of course there's something more. What do you think Malfoy just wrote this so you could get a good night's rest?'

_Pft, No._

'No, Malfoy's probably just wanting me to worry about something,' said Potter.

_Too true._

He continued, 'Remember last time we assumed things and jumped to warn everyone? Remember last time I 'played the hero'? Weren't those your words, Hermione?' he stated, looking rather angrily at Granger, who immediately lapsed into thought. 'Yes, I know you remember. Sirius died then. And last year…' he paused.

'Harry, mate,' Weasley said slowly, 'It's ok.'

'No, no it's not!' Potter said suddenly. I squawked in protest, earning a look from Granger. 'Last year, Luna went. She wouldn't let me go alone. If I hadn't insisted on going on that stupid thing, nothing would have happened to her!'

_I never knew he had such psychological problems. Teehee._

Granger interrupted him, 'Harry, ok. We won't do anything. But, you should answer the letter, at least,' she said, pointing out the forgotten piece of parchment.

Taking out a new sheet of parchment, Potter scribbled something angrily onto it, then immediately slashed it out.

'What do I write?'

Owls definitely can't snort.

Not feeling ready to listen to another conversation, I quickly snatched the parchment Potter had scribbled on in my beak and hopped off the table.

'Wait, No!' shouted Potter, trying to grab at me.

_Heehee, this is definitely priceless._

With a flap of my wings, I flew out of the window. Speeding to the Slytherin common room, I rolled onto the couch out of my transformation. Taking the letter out of my mouth, with great anticipation, I unrolled the parchment to see a quite messy script slashed out once:

'_Ya, I can't sleep, Malfoy. Parkinson and I are quite busy.'_

I had to practically put my fist in my mouth to stop laughing. I am definitely showing Pansy this parchment. Getting out a new scroll, I wrote neatly:

_'I always knew you wanted her, Potter.'_

I thought of leaving it at that, but then added.

_'I wonder what your fans would think if I posted that scroll of parchment up somewhere?'_

Transforming, I flew and arrived much faster than before. Gliding causally through the open window, Potter practically tore the parchment from my claws.

Reading it, he dropped the scroll on the table and banged his head down on the table. After the rest of the trio read it, Granger asked directly, 'What did you write Harry?'

Mumbling something, Weasley asked, 'Harry, tell us.'

Pulling his head up, he said loudly, 'I said Parkinson was keeping me busy.'

As Weasley turned several shades of green, Granger said, 'That was really stupid.'

'I didn't mean for it to get to him, that stupid owl took it to him.'

Squawking in protest, I made a vicious snap of my beak in Potter's direction.

'Well, we'll just have to turn the tables then,' said Granger.

'Oh, I know what to write,' said Potter, grabbing another parchment, 'There.' He gave it to Weasley to approve of, then to Granger. Weasley brought up his eyebrows and Granger shrugged.

Snatching the paper, I flew back.

'_Jealous, Malfoy?'_

That's what he wrote? Pft, stupid. I'll just write this:

_'Potter, I recommend you visit Madam Pomphrey. Your scar's probably making you see things. After all, Pansy's sitting right here beside me.'_

That should show him, I thought, I'm never jealous of anyone. Ever.

Upon receiving the letter, Potter snarled angrily, Weasley about the same. Yet, for some reason, Granger jumped up in joy.

'Harry, don't you realize?' she squeaked, as Potter and Weasley looked at her in confusion, 'This is exactly what we needed!'

'Why's that?' asked Weasley.

'It proves,' said Granger, 'that Parkinson is with him, not you. So keep this letter, Harry, as proof, in case he actually sticks up his.'

Grinning the idiots kept the letter.

_I think, I'm catching the Potter idiot disease._

Feeling completely angry at my failed attempt to make Potter as miserable as I previously felt, I started to hop away. Flying out of the window, I flew back to the Slytherin Common Rooms and landed with a plop on the couch.

Miserable, I stared at the burning embers of the once vibrant fire.

A minute later, I was surprised to see a white owl fly through the window to sit beside me on the couch. Staring at me with big round eyes, I took the parchment from it's leg.

_'Well, since you and Parkinson are probably both reading this letter, good night to both of you. And don't worry, Malfoy, I don't need to visit Pomphrey, maybe you and your -------------------.'_

A line was completely blotted out and neat handwriting was written instead.

_'--- fiancé should get a good night's rest. Thank you for your concern.'_

The handwriting changed again, back to the old messy scrawl, and there was Potter's signature. Folding the letter, I pocketed it and got up, ready to go to my dorm. Yet, suddenly I realized the white owl was still there.

'What?' I asked out loud, 'Why are you still here?'

The owl blinked slowly several times.

'You want me to write good night back?' I said sarcastically.

Surprisingly, the owl gave a nod of its head.

Walking away, I found that the owl started to hoot wildly.

'Shhh! Shut it, you bloody owl, fine I'll write something.'

Grabbing a bit of parchment, I wondered how an owl could get me to do things. I wrote quickly,

_'Goodnight Potter, Weasley, and Granger.'_

Smirking a bit, I thought, that should suffice.

Then, as the owl looked at me again, I added,

_'And don't send back this bloody owl.' _

**Author's Note:** Sorry for all the awful lines everywhere, I have no idea where they cam from! Oh, also it's your lucky day. I'm deciding to update twice today! Geesh, I wish I was so lucky.


	12. Things Change People

Disclaimer: I own nothing of JKRowling's. Her ideas simply influenced mine.

_Ch. 11 Things Change People_

_"Death in the Ministry_

_Reported By: Arnold Minglepuff_

_In a deadly attack last night, several Death Eaters managed to intrude into the Ministry of Magic. And most devastating, is the tragedy that loyal auror, Nymphadora Tonks, was murdered that night. A quite close friend, who chose to remain anonymous, had this to say: "We were just on duty; I decided to walk down another corridor when suddenly behind me I heard a fall. I was overwhelmed – it – it was my fault." And the friend then burst into tears. A more detailed account…"_

Pansy stopped reading and put down the Daily Prophet. 'Hmm, that's quite an interesting account of what happened,' she took a sip of her pumpkin juice and continued to read.

I looked across the table at Nott and smirked. He smirked in return, the Dark Lord would be happy.

Pansy continued to read in a slightly less loud and carrying voice:

"_Yet it must be noted that nothing was otherwise destroyed, taken, or misplaced. One can only wonder why the followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named committed such an act and nothing else._

_However, what is certain is that the Ministry will take every course of action to ensure the safety of the community and to get behind the wrongdoer's of this horrendous crime."_

Laughing, Pansy mimicked, '_horrendous crime_,' and folded the newspaper. She finished a blueberry muffin and looked my way. 'With such good news, I can only think we should celebrate, don't you, Draco?' she said, twirling the ring on her finger.

' I hope you mean we can skip Divination,' I answered, perking up at the subject. Pansy could surely owl an excuse.

'No,' she said, looking a bit down, 'we have the half beast man today,' she tried making a picture with her hands, 'the… what's-it-called? Ahh… Firenze. No, actually I was thinking about how we have Easter Holiday tomorrow. Perhaps we could…,' she lowered her eyes in mock shyness, 'go somewhere?'

Unlike most men, I get a hint. 'China it is,' I stated – it being her dream place for the past month. 'And I may buy you those charmed pearls,' which she has also been talking about for a month.

Ok, so it was a strong hint.

But, you have to admit, I'm still good.

'What a wonderful idea!' she exclaimed, blue eyes practically glowing, 'I'll go pack before class!' grabbing three friends, she raced out of the great hall. The grand doors swung close, then swung again. In came a man and women in formal robes – unusually formal for the casual uniforms of Hogwarts.

They were from the Ministry. You could tell by their walk, how their shoulders were straightened, how they held their bags. Walking straight towards the teacher's table, they stopped to great Dumbledore.

He offered them some sort of sweet.

The man shook his head, but Dumbledore pressed on, 'Bernard, everyone likes Lemon Drops! Go on, take one, and you as well, Drew.'

Accepting, they conversed as Dumbledore's face grew stern. With a nod, Dumbledore got up and walked towards the Slytherin table.

I knew it.

Straightening my own shoulders, I looked up at my Headmaster. He stopped beside me, smiled, and said,

'May I please see you in my office after you are done with breakfast, Mr. Nott?'

_Nott?_

'Albus, I could have come and told him. You had no need to get up.'

'Oh, no,' Dumbledore shook his head slightly, 'I feel that when one of my students are accused of a crime, I must tell him. Yes, at times like these, I feel a need to get up.'

_Nice one, Dumbledore._

'So, they decided to take it upon themselves to sort out a punishment for me.'

'And then what happened?'

'Well, Dumbledore and Snape came along, pointing out how it was the Headmasters job to sort out punishments. Snape added that there wasn't significant evidence and all sorts of things.'

It seemed that Nott was done talking about his adventurous tale. Thank Merlin, he had been at it for a whole hour – we were already late to dinner. Walking up past the stairs into the common room, I escorted Pansy out of the room, where she was sitting on a couch.

'Is he still…'

'Yes.'

Smirking slightly, she bit her lip and continued to walk. I watched her; this wasn't the same Pansy I knew in the beginning of the year. Now, I could laugh, share a smile-smirk- with her. Skip classes, get married.

'You weren't like this before,' I said suddenly, 'you were more… you were different,' I ended lamely.

Raising an eyebrow, she glanced my way. 'Things change people,' she said simply. 'You changed me.'

I continued to watch her as we took our seats in the Great Hall. Hmm, I didn't know I had such a good effect on people. Perhaps I should be around more people from now on, I thought happily.

Suddenly, I heard a squawk from above. Looking up, I spotted a large black bird flying into the hall, camouflaged by the black of the star-speckled ceiling.

Oh, god. No.

Please let it not be for me.

Black birds – those aren't the normal post owls. Those hideous creatures post only the message of death.

I remember when mother got one once, when her mother died.

Now, it's coming for me.

The creature briefly landed, quite neatly onto the table before me. It dropped the single scroll of parchment, stretched its long black wings, and promptly took flight again.

Eyeing the scroll carefully, I picked it up. I was suddenly aware of the beating of my heart; the hair standing up on my arms; the numb feeling in my fingers. Slitting the badge of a flying black bird, I slowly rolled open the parchment.

Feeling the pale, bumpy surface of the sheet, I started to read silently:

_"Dearest Nephew, _

_It is I who must inform you of a great sorrow. Your mother and father have serviced the Dark Lord, and it was He who appointed their death. I'm sure it is an honor to die at the hands of the Dark Lord, do not grieve…"_

I stopped reading; the letter had slipped from my hands. Without even acknowledging it, Zambini had grabbed the letter.

_Appointed their death…_

_Death._

_Mother, Father._

_Lucius, Narcissa._

_Dead._

_Dead?_

_Appointed their death…_

Suddenly, I was choking. I was being choked. People – I looked around me – people everywhere. People choking me.

I stood. I need to breathe. I felt two large figures stand beside me.

Choking me.

'Move,' I whispered.

No one listened. More people stood. I heard familiar voices, they were talking. Telling me things. Breathing my air, choking me.

Choking.

'Draco…'

'Listen, Malfoy...'

_'Draco_...'

'Don't act s-'

BOOM.

I had barely grabbed my wand, and they were sent flying in all directions.

My ears were tuned back in. I heard a shriek, screams, the tinkle of broken glass. Things sliding off tables. The screech of chairs against the floor. Footsteps… following footsteps.

Turning, I made my way out of the Great Hall.

Footsteps.

I'm running.

Screams.

I'm screaming. Death. Death! No!

I'm running, I'm racing, I'm breathing. I'm dying.

Circles and circles.

Higher and higher.

I burst through a wooden door, unaware of whether it would still work or not. Cold fresh air and the dark of night surrounded me. I stumbled forward and gripped cold stone. I was holding onto an edge – of a tower, I realized abruptly. Looking towards the right, I saw small lights in windows, all below me. Was I so high? Turning to the left, I nearly jumped.

Potter?

Here. Now? His green eyes were wide behind his glasses, face confused.

There was a creak, and the wooden door was slowly pushed open.

Dumbledore.

What is happening?

Why are they here, what do they want?

I want them to leave. I want to be alone!

Alone forever.

'Good evening, Draco?'

I glared at the old man, so sure of himself. What does he know? What does he think he knows? Coming in – butting in. I can't stand it.

Turning away, I was yet again faced by Potter.

That's it.

That's it!

I breathed in deeply,

'Fine evening, Professor.'

Good-bye.

My legs led me to the edge of the tower. My hands felt the rocky surface, the block-like design, up and down.

My mind had made a decision; I knew what I was about to do.

'Wha- no. Wait!'

No one will stop me.

'Don't-'

'You are not alone.'

Dumbledore's words made me stop and turn away from the seductive colors of night. Could he possibly – as usual – be right?

'We'll see about that.'

Suddenly, Potter made a move to get to me. No, I thought. I must be alone. I'll jump. Backing away quickly, my thigh hit the edge of the tower, causing me to loose my footing. Collapsing backwards, my foot was momentarily caught, and I felt a rip down my leg. Excruciating pain streaked down my thigh, and my foot was free.

I was falling.

_I'm free. I'm alone._

'Dumbledore, we have to do something!' Potter shouted to the Headmaster, who coolly looked at him.

'What we must do is nothing.'

_My mansion – will go. Taken by an unknown member of the family._

'Professor, he just fell off the tower,' Potter's voice seemed to issue command. 'We have to help him.'

_My name – will perish. Or be carried on by some distant cousin._

'Harry,' said Dumbledore quietly, 'there are many things that you do not know about Draco.'

_My love – my Pansy. Nott will take her._

'He'll die.'

'He'll fly.'

_NO._

But meters from the ground, flapping wings took the place of heavy, lifeless arms and life breathed in the dark and breathed out – blowing the struggling owl high up into the air, till it circled the tower top.

'He's here,' whispered an old voice, withered with life's winds, itself.

'An animagi.'

Falling out of the owl's form, I rolled onto the solid concrete.

_Pansy, _I thought, _I changed you._

I tried to stand, but found myself falling back down. My legs couldn't hold me. My arms were heavy; my eyesight dull, blurry…

Figures around me…

_And now, you've saved me._

Author's Note: I expect very long reviews. Yes, I do. Things are really going to start spicing up after this chapter!


	13. You Will Train

Disclaimer: I own nothing of JKRowling's. Her ideas simply influenced mine.

_Ch. 12 You will Train_

I was conscious before my eyes were open.

Something was… different.

When you are injured, in pain, or even slightly hurt, Pomphrey will force you into one of those warm, white hospital beds in the hospital wing.

This isn't the hospital wing.

And this isn't home either, I thought, listening for the movement of snakes beneath the floor. Instead all I heard was a ruffle of feathers. Mother wouldn't have let my owl in, anyw – I paused in my thoughts. Mother.

My parents.

Suddenly, I wanted desperately to go back to sleep, no matter where I was. Turning in bed, a harsh voice greeted me.

"Time to wake up, sonny."

Immediately, my thoughts pushed to the back of my mind, I threw back the covers and twisted to look at the figure at the opposite side of the room.

Professor Moody?

A swiveling, lightning blue eyeball stopped to stare at me. The appearance of my fourth year DADA teacher was not a pleasant sight, and didn't bring happy memories to mind. I backed up in bed, sitting up properly, to observe my surroundings. I was in a well kept room, which had the stuffy smell of a room that had been cleaned, and then locked till further use. The furniture was of satisfactory state, quite old beautiful antiques. The owner must have good taste, I thought observing the deep green bed cover.

But that didn't answer my questions. Why am I here? Why is Professor Moody here? Oh, and where is here?

A tall figure swiftly walked into the room through the wide open wooden door. 'Ah, wonderful, you're awake!' exclaimed Dumbledore, quite gaily in my opinion.

'Where am I?'

'Oh,' said Dumbledore, 'That is none of your business, at the moment,' I momentarily raised my eyebrows in a temper, as Professor Moody snickered in the corner, 'Now, tell me. How do you fell about Voldemort?'

That ball was thrown at me from a direction I didn't see coming. Still caught it, though.

'Now, that,' I mimicked, 'is none of _your_ business, at the moment.'

The moment I said it, I knew I shouldn't of.

'Not a smart move, Malfoy,' snarled Professor Moody; he seemed more violent than I remembered. 'Not when you're alone and at mercy.' My response was a snarl.

'I am never at anyone's mercy.'

As Moody reached for his wand, my hand rushed to my inner pocket. There was nothing there. I was in school robes, and I didn't have my wand.

'Enough Alaster,' said Dumbledore, gazing my way. 'Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure you'll understand that things have an order. Now, please answer my question.'

I turned away from the eyes that seemed to pierce into my head, and looked towards the various picture's on the opposite wall. How did I feel. The Dark Lord murdered my parents. With no reason – could my parents of betrayed him? Did they do something against his wishes? What reason left me alone in some room, with two Professors as an orphan?

In a sudden rage, I swore loudly, glaring at both cautious faces. 'What do you think I feel!' I shouted, 'Look at what he did to me! My parents are dead!'

I threw back the heavy bedcovers, but remained seated. Taking advantage of the sudden pause, Dumbledore stated, 'We are well aware of that, Mr. Malfoy.'

A taut string snapped. The corners of my sight seemed to be dabbed in streaks of red. Leaping out of bed, I grabbed the object nearest to me. Some ornament from the bed stand. Hurling it across the room, I yelled, ' You stand there and act, as if this means _nothing_!'

My hands reached for something to break. 'Control yourself, boy.' Moody's harsh words hit me. Control, just as my father used to say. My dead, deceased father!

Picking up a heavy vase, I saw Dumbledore's blue eyes wearily look at me. Blue eyes - my mother's blue eyes.

'Why did you bring me here!' I bellowed, ordering as if I could, 'TAKE ME BACK TO MY MANSION!'

I felt the intricate carvings of the vase below my palm. Curves, sleek scales… I looked down quickly, suddenly distracted from my tirade.

The vase had snakes on it.

Quickly, I started to turn it round and round, staring at the familiar signs. A memory was floating into my mind,

_'There are only two of these vases,' Narcissa explained, fingering the vibrant green emeralds._

_'We have one,' I asked, 'Who has the other?'_

_'Bella, of course,' she smiled, 'Who else but sisters?'_

Bellatrix. I put down the vase with a thud and looked around, everything fitting in. This was mother's house, before she got married.

Several questions flitted across my mind. Is this her room? Did Bella sleep here as well? Is Bella here? Why am I here? How am I here?

_'The traitor, Sirius, owns the house, now," my mother's face crinkled unattractively. After all, with the size of the mansion, my great aunt and grandmother had shared the house. Whom better neighbors than sisters, right?_

_'Can't we get it back?' What I really felt like saying was: Isn't it rightfully mine My great aunts useful son was dead._

_Narcissa smiled, once again beautiful, 'Not until he's dead.'_

I turned back to Dumbledore and Moody, still standing at the door.

But, instead of asking the questions, I kept quiet. I knew how to get what I want, and I knew what Dumbledore wanted, and I knew how to give people what they want. Mumbling, I turned away.

'What was that?' Dumbledore's voice asked, so softly, it seemed to float on the wind, only to my ears.

I whispered again. The answer to his question, the one he asked in the very beginning.

'Speak up, boy,' growled Moody from the door.

Turning violently, I shouted, 'I WANT HIM DEAD!'

One would think that a silence would follow such forceful words…

But, then again, when will one know what Dumbledore would do?

'Wonderful! Then I think you will be quite happy here,' Dumbledore exclaimed, as if Father Christmas himself had asked for a place to stay.

Finally, I thought, my question was being answered, 'Here?'

'Tojours Pur.'

I knew it. 'How did you get in?' I demanded, immediately.

'Get in?' Dumbledore seemed to feel the need to look mildly surprised, 'I didn't need to get in. Mr. Potter let us in.'

Almost dreading the answer, I sunk back down onto the bed and asked slowly 'And, how did Mr. Potter let you in?'

Dumbledore smiled, 'As the owner of any house let's his guests in,' – when will he stop smiling – 'Now, Mr. Malfoy, I must inform you of the fact that you are here to stay for the remainder of the Easter Holiday. I expect that

Standing up, I walked towards the mirror, absorbing the information. I knew what I must do now. It wasn't possible that I leave this house. Moody's presence seemed to solidify that fact. So, whenever at a guests house, the first thing I must do, what I was taught by my Mother, was to… well… be _polite_- to the owner of the house. 'Then, do tell,' I paused, then continued strictly, 'Mr. Potter, that I'll be down in half an hour to,' I paused again, 'to give him… compliments.'

Mother, wherever she is, should be pleased.

I looked down and quickly located my trunk near the mirror chair as the gay wizard replied, 'I am sure he will be pleased.' Moments later, I heard the door click shut. Thanking Merlin, I bent down and opened my trunk. Examining my few pullovers and pants, I pulled out my quill and parchment. Quickly, I explained my need for clothes, homely items, soap, and perhaps food from home. Rereading the letter, I gathered the house elf would understand to send them immediately. Without looking up, I clicked my right fingers and my owl flew and perched in front of me. She stuck her leg out, and I tied the letter to her leg simply.

Leading her to the window, I put my hand on the lock. Suddenly, it clicked shut. 'Sorry, sonny. No sending owls.'

Moody smiled – horribly contorting his face – and put his wand back in his pocket.

'Actually, this letter is quite important,' I stated, plainly. Strangely, I felt like I was still at school. 'There are a few things I need from home.'

'You'll have to live on what's in your trunk, boy. You don't think you're actually here on vacation, do you sonny?'

Snarling out, I barked, 'Don't call me sonny or boy! I'm not a child, nor am I your child.' Pulling at the window, I snarked, 'I'm sending this letter, whether you like it or not.'

'I'll call you what I want, boy,' he growled viciously. 'But first, I think I'll teach you some manners.' Startled, I left my owl to fly to her corner. I have manners, I thought immediately. Does he think my mother did a bad job raising me? Of course, not. My manners exceed all in this house. I am always polite to everyone. Well, everyone who matters. Well, to me.

He continued to talk, 'You're worse than what Ronald could explain,' I glared his way, 'And have more guts than Potter thought.'

'Is that supposed to be a complement or an insult?' I asked, angrily putting down my letter, and considering other ways of sending it.

'However, you take it,' he replied. Still glaring, we stared at each other for a bit. Moody's blue eye swiveled in his head, rotating around, apparently looking at my trunk, owl, and letter. His smaller eye still stared at me, taking in my every action. I'll send the letter later, I decided. After all, what I really need now, is a shower. Quite uncomfortable, with Moody simply standing in the room, I cleared my throat, 'Now is an opportune time for you to leave.'

Without waiting for a reply, I unpacked a pair of pants, robe, and pull over. 'I am going to shower.'

Growling, 'Downstairs, then,' he disapparated with a loud pop.

Immediately, I breathed with relief and made my way across the carpeted floor towards the door of the bathroom. Leaving the door wide open, I smiled at the familiar sight of a 'homely' bathroom. The clean white tiles gleamed gloriously, bragging there pearly glow. The long mirror was accompanied with a pair of candles at shoulder and knee height. A young vine twirled around the small fogged window, and by the sink was a vase of handpicked flowers. Narcissi.

My mother's flower.

I sat on the edge of the tub. Someone had definitely taken an amount of time to put this together. But who would know all this?

Suddenly, a knock on the bathroom door, drew my attention. There stood a small creature in a rather clean white sheet, blinking; I realized I knew him. It was the house elf that had visited my Mansion not two years before. My mother's old house elf.

'Kreacher?' I asked.

'Oh, M-Master Malfoy!' the house elf cried in glee, 'Kreacher is is s-soo happy to sees you!' The creature stepped into the bathroom, and kneeled at my feet. 'D-did sir see w-what I prepared? Is sirs happy with the arrangement of the r-rooms?'

I smiled, 'Your arrangements were quite suitable, Kreacher. Good job.' I don't remember the last time I complemented a house elf, but this creature seemed to be the only thing I was used to, and it generated a wonderfully safe feeling to be around something home-like again.

Kreacher seemed ready to cry from happiness, he seemed to mutter to himself, 'Finally, finally, one of good race, pure blood…' then he started to speak up again, 'Kreacher will make your stay m-most pleasant sirs,' he explained eagerly, as if afraid I would immediately get up and leave, 'Kreacher prepared sirs this room, Madam's Narcissa and Bellatrix, lovely Bellatrix's room,' he glowed at the memory, 'And,' he jotted out of his thoughts and raced to a cupboard on the opposite side of the bathroom. 'This is a cl-closet of towels's for sirs to use.' He waved his hand slightly, and soap's and potions appeared on a different, previously empty shelf, 'These weres Madam Bellatrix,' he stuttered slightly, 'I – I – I've been hiding them,' and he whispered, 'from the others.'

Yep, definitely what I was used to.

'Very good, Kreacher,' I complimented, actually genuinely happy. 'But, I would like to ask of you something.'

'Anythings, sirs!' he practically bounced up and down.

I quickly got up and left the bathroom, and collected the letter I had earlier written. I turned and realized he had followed me out. 'Send this letter for me, Kreacher,' I whispered. 'It is to be delivered to the Malfoy Manor.'

With a quick nod of his head, Kreacher snatched the letter and deposited it into the sheet of his clothes. He mumbled to himself, 'Ah, lovely secret missions, just like the old days. Good, sir trustes Kreacher. Finally, finally…'

Kreacher looked up, and gave me a large broken-toothed smile. He walked towards the door, then looked back and asked, 'Anything else sirs?'

'No, that is all, Kreacher.'

Then, the house elf bowed, his face a lit with happiness. The bow was so low, his nose touched the ground. But, even as I turned back to the bathroom, I didn't miss the other thing that hit the ground.

I didn't miss his tears.

I like this mirror, I thought looking at the floor length mirror before me in the bathroom. Well, I probably like it, because I'm in it, I thought on the second hand.

Who couldn't like a well-groomed Malfoy?

Straightening the already straight black robes, I left my mother's handsome room. Stepping into the hallway, I stopped immediately. This hall was no where as clean, well-furnished, or in any way handsome as my room. I was considering stepping right back into my room, when I heard angry voices from downstairs.

'He said he was going to shower.'

'Well, then what the bloody hell takes him this long?'

'We're not going to spend half the day waiting for him.'

The growling voice answered in an oddly sarcastic voice, 'Surely it will be worth the wait. He practically choked himself when saying he was going to give you his compliments.'

Laughter erupted from downstairs, and I walked slowly down the staircase. 'Shhh! You're going to wake her!' said a familiar feminine voice.

'Oh, we wouldn't want that…' and a twin's voice continued, 'he'd probably die in fright, and you wouldn't get your 'compliments', Harry.'

The laughter from the kitchen rang out into the hall. Narrowing my eyes, I was about to bust in, when a shriek from behind me made me jump.

'Oh, now you've done it.'

Quickly, I stepped away from the door, just seconds before it was swung violently open. Standing against the wall, I saw Granger, accompanied by three Weasley's and Potter, head for the shrieking portrait.

The very familiar shrieking portrait.

My Great Aunt.

"FILTH! Despicable remains of human dirtying the house of Black!... Mudbloods!' she shrieked, pointing sharply at Granger, she and Potter both trying to pull close the curtain, 'Blood Traitors,' she continued taking in the three red heads, pulling close her black robe.

Suddenly, she caught my eye and the shrieking stopped. The curtains remained stubbornly open, but the pulling upon them slowly seized.

'Oh, Great Aunty,' I spoke smoothly, straightening my back to give my form more prestige, 'I couldn't have said it better, myself.'

'Draconis? Is that you?' she asked, blue eyes staring at me in wide-eyed shock. 'Finally,' she exclaimed in French, 'the rightful owner of this house.'

'I know,' I replied, speaking fluently in her first language, 'though I must say, this house has diminished in splendor, profusely.'

'Too true, I didn't let Kreacher do any cleaning as long as these traitors were in this house,' she smiled happily to herself. 'But, how did you get in? I thought they had spelled it against our type.'

'Really?' I asked, absorbing the new information. 'Well, it seems like they've kidnapped me,' always good to over dramatize the situation.

During the conversation, I had started to walk forward until I was but a few feet away from the portrait. Which is why, I was quite startled when the kitchen door banged open.

'No, not kidnapped. More like saved, Malfoy,' came Moody's growl.

My great Aunt looked appropriately astonished, 'You owe them a debt? Impossible,' she muttered in French.

'Gran ma ma, ignore him,' I muttered back, thinking. Mad-Eye knew French?

'Not an easy feat,' he limped forward, 'Come on, about time you're done showering!'

'My type is clean!' my great Aunt boomed from above. 'Unlike others!' She looked pointedly at Granger and Potter, who was smiling shrewdly. For a moment, I wondered why, then realized that he had just successfully pulled the curtain shut. And all sound of my great Aunt was silenced.

I felt myself being dragged into another room, and before I knew it, I was seated uncomfortably in an awkward kitchen chair.

I bet my house elf has sat on this.

The rest had filed in after Moody, and I realized I was seated at the side of a kitchen table. With a start, I found Weasley's mother sitting in front of me, pealing potatoes. And now, everyone was taking a seat at the table.

The table _I_ was sitting on.

What? I thought, looking at a red-haired brother on one side, and on my other side, him, as well. Ah, the twins. Weasley and Granger were taking a seat across from me. And, worst of all, Potter was at the head of the table.

I'm not going to stand this.

Getting up, I said strictly, 'I am not sitting at this table.'

The twins got up on both my sides, looking infuriated at my comment and about ready to try to beat me up.

'Fine. Stand then.'

Potter spoke from the head of the table. Livid, I didn't believe that I was a guest in a house, and I hadn't been offered a seat. The other members of this … this organization seemed fine with the idea.

'I think that you wanted to… give me your compliments?' Potter spoke, trying to hide a grin – that Weasley wasn't even trying to hide.

Somehow, I didn't feel like giving anyone any compliments. But, I thought of Mother and Great Aunty – covered in the hall – and managed to state, 'The room you provided me is… nice. Best in the house, it seems, actually.'

'That's only because Kreacher actually cleaned it. He cleans nothing else,' Potter stated, defensively.

There was a moment's silence. Finally, I said the question that had been on my mind, ever since I woke today,

'Why am I here?'

Moody interrupted, 'And where is 'here', my boy?'

I said smoothly, 'My great aunt's house, my _rightful_ house. The Headquarters of the Phoenix,' – pathetic headquarters.

'My house,' Potter stated, 'as you already know. You are here on account of –'

'Training.'

'Exuse me?'

'You heard, Malfoy,' Ron's voice was just as harsh as Moody's previous comment.

'I don't need training,' I stated, immediately looking around to smirk at everyone. Could they actually plan on training me? I know the Dark Arts inside out. I've read every book in my father's library, Hogwarts, the restricted section.

Granger met Weasley's eyes. Moody's large blue eye swirled into his head, the other looking skywards. Mrs. Weasley looked politely astonished, and her potato peeling had momentarily seized. Yet, my eyes were diverted to the head of the wooden table, which suddenly shook. Potter had stood.

'You are in my house. And you will train.'

Author's Note: I expect very long reviews. Yes, I do. Things are really going to start spicing up after this chapter!


	14. You were lucky

Disclaimer: I own nothing of JKRowling's. Her ideas simply influenced mine.

Ch. 13 You Were Lucky

**'Whatever.'**

It was a good thing that this was the last day of 'training.' Truth be told, it seemed mad men like Moody did know what they were talking about. The several real life situations, each one of us had to face was refreshing to the many boring hours spent in this large mansion.

But, it was not in vain. My letter was a success, bringing food, clothing, homely items, and several accessories. My Great Aunt was almost as pleased as I as I showed and shared with her several things. She was always one for a good talk, especially when the Weasley's were more irritable than usual.

I sat in my room, alone. I had come to feel as if it truly was my own. The beauty and elegance and expense of it all had reminded me of my home, one I will undeniably regret returning to without my parents. Dressed, I sat at the edge of my made bed. The room was perfectly clean, and most of my belongings were in my trunk. I could feel the restlessness in the rest of the house, Moody wanted us dueling for the last time today.

'Whatever.'

Today, I imagine, will be no different from the rest of this week. Getting up, I nearly sighed. But, my gaze had drifted to the mirror, and looking at my tall, proud image, I remembered who I was.

Malfoy.

Malfoy's don't cry. And they definitely don't sigh. What a pathetic show of weakness. Walking down the stairs, I pocketed my wand and wondered who would be at the receiving end of all the revenge I was bound to give. Did they think they could trap me in a house filled with scum as my great aunt put it and deny me my own manor with no consequence? Ha.

And a web of bad mood started to collect around Malfoy. Emotionless as his pale face was painted, the only sign seemed to seep into the air around him, a gray aura, as unknown as his eyes. An experienced Black, his great aunt did not even say good morning as he strode by. Every good reason of why Dumbledore had kept him here slipped away into madness. Every reasonable thought of how his parents had met their fate seemed temporarily denied. There was no reason and there was no consequence. And the order of events was maddening.

Above all, Malfoy was kept as a captive, against his will – though not his better judgment – and forced to work and eat with disgraceful company. How far had he fallen? And why when but one month ago when this whole episode was impossible, had it rolled so directly into his life?

Malfoy was rapping his knuckles on the kitchen table surface, already seated in a seat he had roughly pulled out, one ankle on the opposite knee. Mrs. Weasley watched confused but uncaring from the kitchen where she was peeling potatoes for dinner in a few hours.

His thoughts effectively deepening his distastely frown, Malfoy less than cared when everyone started piling there way into the living past the kitchen, chatting excitedly about Hogwarts and who they missed. That was when his frown deepened further, and a look of worry continued to distort his handsome features. Pansy would kill him, of that he was sure. Suddenly enjoying his last few peaceful moments before questions and abuse on Pansy's part in Hogwarts, Malfoy smoothed his hair.

Getting up to talk to his great aunt, Malfoy left the kitchen. But just as he was about to pull open the curtain, there was a soft knocking at the door. Turning to the side, Malfoy went to open the door, sure no one else had heard it.

Remus Lupin stepped inside, "Thank you, Draco," he said quickly walking towards the kitchen, followed by Moody.

Moody looked at him, a shaggy eyebrow raised. 'He's never been quite right, since Tonks died,' and Moody looked pointedly towards where the kitchen door had swung shut, 'but then again, it seems the same with others as well.'

He limped forwards and Malfoy followed resignedly, choosing to ignore the latter comment. Looking at the ground, Malfoy nearly bumped into Moody as he stopped right before the kitchen door. The shaggy head swung around, 'You might want to wipe that attitude off, boy. It won't get you anywhere you want to go in dueling.' Turning back around, he huffed, then muttered, opening the door, 'You could have picked up something a bit more useful from Potter, you know.'

About to mention that an orphan like Potter didn't have any good qualities, so of course he would be affected negatively, Malfoy slammed his mouth shut. His bad mood deepened.

He stood behind a couch in the living room where Moody and the rest of the household were lounging. 'Pairs,' Moody was announcing, 'are as follows: Ron with George, Remus with Ginny, Fred with Shackelbolt, Hermione with Malfoy, and Potter, you're with me.' He looked at everyone threateningly, 'These are your partners, no complaining.'

The entertainment provided from watching the less competent battle those better than them, did no good in improving Malfoy's mood.

'Hermione, Draco, you're up,' announced Moody, standing with his cane in the corner of the room, which had been cleared for dueling.

So, now, I'm not just dueling, I'm actually being forced to duel a Mudblood, oh jolly me, I'm so glad. Malfoy's sarcastic thoughts kept him seated as Hermione rose quickly with her wand.

"You will start on three, mind the rules - Malfoy, get up!' and with a flick of his wand, Moody had Malfoy practically pop out of his seat. Smirking disdainly, Malfoy looked away from the crowd. He took out his wand furiously and turned to Hermione. His bad mood, he felt, was about to come out from his wand with no mind to the rules.

He looked up into Hermione's brown eyes, and deaf to the rules, he threw his first curse. She dodged as Ron yelled in anger. But Malfoy was going to play badly completely out of line. And as the crowd watched on with horror at the grueling tactics, that Malfoy used Hermione was capable of fighting back.

It seemed obvious that Moody had paired them together. Only brains against brains could make this duel interesting and worth while. But for once, Malfoy wasn't using brains, he was so wrapped up in his angry emotions that it seemed that a different type of power was allowing him to win. It was however, no wonder that Harry would be getting just as riled up. For a teacher always knows his students most what is both good and bad for him.

Hermione ha fallen on the floor and Harry had stood to her aid. Waned out, he challenged Malfoy with just as much emotion as he had previously held. "You said no outside help!" Malfoy yelled, he face flushed from all the dueling.

'And since when do you follow the rules?' Potter challenged, a mad glare in his eyes. Completely fed up, Malfoy suddenly disappeared with a loud pop, leaving the room as oppositely silent as it had once been eventful. Moody blinked once and Potter sighed in understanding and with a second pop he was gone.

He had disapparated into another room which was much cleaner than any bathroom he had been in a long time. In fact, it reminded him of Aunt Petunia's house had the not the smell of wizardly perfume. Throwing the door in front of him open, he met a furious pair of storm clouds compressed into two eyes.

'You ungrateful jerk! Why did you use dark magic! Don't you appreciate what Dumbledore has done for you! What I had to do for you! For Merlin's sake, you have the best room in this house!'

'Me? You call me ungrateful! What am I supposed to do! Thank Merlin,' he sarcastically commented, 'cause my parents are dead! Is that what you did Potter?'

'So, big deal! NO parents! Oh no! Look at me, Malfoy, its been seventeen long years without anyone watching my back –'

But, he was interrupted, by a thunderous roar, which silenced everything, 'YOU NEVER LIVED WITH YOUR PARENTS! YOU NEVER HAD THEM PROMISE YOU THINGS! PROMISE YOU EVERYTHING! PROMISE YOU THEM!' the storm was fading, 'You never had real value for them; you were stupid. You were young.'

And for a moment, Potter thought that Malfoy was done. He nearly turned to leave the room, when he heard a whisper, that he nearly missed, 'You were lucky.'

And the next day, they left to board the Hogwarts train.

Author's Note: Sorry for the sucky short chapter, but check out 'Dedicated to Dumbledore' that's a good long poem.


	15. I'm Sorry

Disclaimer: I own nothing of JKRowling's. Her ideas simply influenced mine.

Ch. 13 I'm Sorry

I decided not to board the train. I didn't want to go back to Hogwarts. I wasn't ready. Everyone knows I'm an orphan now. They know that my parents are dead.

Instead, I apparated into Hogsmeade.

I decided, this was the best time of year, I thought, strolling the grounds with my hands fingering my shrunk trunks and books in my pockets. The snow was gone, and the greenery was refreshing. But the castle still loomed ahead. I wondered what I would see in there, would my friends scoff, would people turn away, would the chandeliers fall upon my head when I admitted I'd spent the Easter with a group of idiots training to beat the Dark Lord?

Pansy is going to kill me.

I shuddered, though the early morning frost remained innocent. I didn't want to go to the dorms. Glancing at the time, I decided to go straight to class. First was always arithmacy. Wonderful, Nott the jealous bastard and Granger, the girl I could have killed yesterday.

Passing through the large wooden doors, I felt I'd me more comfortable surrounded with unaware muggles in the midst of London rather than the people I've known for 7 years.

The sun skipped through the sky rushing lunch and dinner, which I chose not to attend. It seemed I had to either return to my dorm or sleep in the corridors and continue to hid from everyone. I think it was the bravest thing I ever did.

"Snake skin" I whispered as the portrait swung open. I took a deep breath and stepped through the hole in the wall. I walked down the few stairs and faced the common room.

"Draco Malfoy."

Shit.

My pale gray eyes met her crystal blue ones.

She broke the crystal silence.

"HOW COULD YOU DRACO MALFOY? HOW CAN YOU JUST STAND THERE WHILE I PRACTICALLY DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!-"

"Pansy," I interrupted, wishing it was a howler and not her, "just-"

"NO! 'JUST' WHAT HUH? WAIT? LISTEN? UNDERSTAND?"

She dragged out the last word coldly and I felt as if I'd been slapped in the face. I hurried forward to the group of couches she and her friends had been sitting on. She was now standing and there was a low oak table between us. Her curls lit brilliantly in the light of the blazing fire and her eyes were more clear than anything I've seen.

If I hadn't already loved her. I sure would now.

'THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN TELL ME!'

And in a sudden movement like a whiplash, Pansy sent the heavy oak table flying towards me, knocking me off my feet.

'DO YOU SEE THIS DRACO MALFOY? DO YOU SEE THIS?' she held up her hand and her ring sparkled brilliantly. 'DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANT TO ME? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS IS WORTH?'

'absolutely nothing.'

Everyone was quiet.

'It's worth absolutely nothing,' I said slowly, getting up, letting the splinters of wood fall, 'If I have broken your heart.' And I grabbed the woman who meant everything to me, and cradled the precious heart, that like a diamond should never be cracked.

"You didn't answer my letters,' she sobbed, as I carried her out of our dorms to somewhere more private. 'I'm sorry Pansy, I'm sorry,' I kept murmuring, just realizing just how much a woman promises from herself when she accepts to marry someone.

Upon arriving at the gardens, I sat her down and explained everything of the past week. Slowly, she stopped sniffling and listened.

'Well, I'm happy you're not friends with them.'

'Yes, but now I've decided. I can't let the man who murdered my parents live.'

'And neither can I.'

'What?'

'I'm with you Draco. We are the Malfoy's remember? Whoever hurts our line shouldn't live to tell the tale.'

I smiled slightly, 'I'm sorry, Pansy,' I said with remorse and sadness. I dragged her into something, so bad, so wrong. But something that I had to do.

'Draco, I'm fine. Don't worry, this is right.'

But I couldn't get over it. What had happened to the Malfoy's? What was going to happen to her? I'm sorry Pansy.

I'm sorry.

**Author's note:** Hey, you guys, I finally posted after like a year. I dunno, I'm doing IB in high school and times are tough.. lol. Sorry this is short, but I'm finishing this story. About 2-3 chapters left.


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